


Jack and Ianto's Foray Into Troy

by Litsetaure



Series: Ancient Adventures [2]
Category: The Iliad - Homer, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Historical, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Litsetaure/pseuds/Litsetaure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as "What happens when a Classics student has WAY too much fun with her degree!" </p><p> Jack and Ianto find themselves in the middle of the Greek camp in the tenth year of the Trojan War. How will they react? Started as a funny story, but somehow got really intense on me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I first wrote this in 2008 when I was working on my undergraduate dissertation (on representations of homosexuality in ancient and modern media). 
> 
> But I suddenly got hit by parallels between Achilles and Patroclus and Jack and Ianto and I thought "Okay, Jack would have a field day in Ancient Greece - why not write him and Ianto in the Iliad?" 
> 
> And so, this fic spawned. I had originally intended for it to be short, sweet and a bit cracky. As you can see, it did not turn out that way.

**Part 1**

 

Jack blinked and coughed loudly as he expelled a jet of sea water. As he looked up, he grimaced as he realised that the sun was beating down on him – and he wasn’t wearing any protection. A soaking wet white toga, which was clinging to his skin, was not helping matters in the slightest. However…the circumstances of acquiring said toga had been, to say the least, much more pleasant.  
  
He smiled as he recalled the little sojourn to Rome – the reign of Hadrian, to be precise – and the rather steamy events in the baths, both literally and metaphorically. He had, admittedly, been rather annoyed that his clothes seemed to have disappeared, leaving behind only a pair of white togas. Ianto, however, once he had gotten over the loss of his beloved stopwatch, had been of the ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’ opinion and had been more than happy to wear a toga. Looking back on it, Jack realised that he had, really, only been upset at losing his beautiful coat – and that, actually, putting a toga on Ianto and having Ianto put a toga on him had been exceptional fun.  
  
Although, now he came to think about it – where exactly was Ianto? They had walked out of the Roman forum hand in hand, but then – or rather, now – he was just not there. If he had ended up somewhere – or some-when – else, then Jack was assuredly going to be having some words with the Rift when they returned to Cardiff.  
  
Something brushed Jack’s hip then and he jumped when he realised that Ianto was floating beside him and the thing brushing his hip was actually his right hand. Quickly, he jumped back into the deeper water and pulled his partner up to the surface, all the while slapping his face to try and get a response from him. When that failed, he bent down and pressed their mouths together, breathing deeply into him.  
  
It worked; within a second, Ianto’s eyes flew open and he gasped for breath as he came awake. A moment later, he was alert enough to raise an eyebrow at the older man.  
  
“Funny sort of CPR, Jack,” he remarked. “And why are you looking at me like I’m a melting ice-cream cone that you just want to lick up?”  
  
Jack smirked as he lifted him up. “Well,” he said, “I’ve realised that there’s one thing better than Ianto Jones in a white toga.”  
  
“And what would that be?”  
  
"That would be Ianto Jones in a _wet_ white toga." He yelped as Ianto slapped him on the shoulder, knocking him back into the water. "Hey, that wasn't fair," he pouted.  
  
“That’s what you get for thinking with your trousers.”  
  
“But I’m not wearing trousers.”  
  
“Okay, that’s what you get for thinking with your crotch. Happy?”  
  
“No; you hit me on one of the spots where I got sunburnt.”  
  
Ianto’s eyes widened in concern and he stared at Jack’s skin under his toga. “Jack, I’m sorry,” he gasped as he caught sight of the red and raw skin. “I didn’t realise.”  
  
Jack smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said, pulling him into the water and kissing him. “But I have to ask – how are you not sunburnt?”  
  
“I don’t tend to get sunburnt for some reason, which is odd, considering how pale – wait, never mind that. Last time I looked, Rome didn’t have a beach, so…where are we?”  
  
Jack frowned. “We seem to be in the middle of the sea. Hey, you know what I’ve always wanted to –”  
  
“Jack. I know it’s difficult for you, but please, stop thinking with your crotch.”  
  
“Oh, all right,” sighed Jack. “Well then, I suppose the right question isn’t ‘Where are we?’ but ‘When are we?’ Because you’re right; this is not Rome – and those over there look to me like they could be Greek ships.”  
  
He caught Ianto’s hand and together they swam towards the shore. Gradually, several tents and campfires came into view, all set up beside the ships. But what they saw as they came closer were several large wood pyres, some of them still smoking.  
  
“My God!” exclaimed Jack. “Just – when are we?”  
  
“Well, judging by the funeral pyres and the weapons all over the place, we seem to have stumbled into the middle of a war,” replied Ianto as he stepped onto the sand.  
  
Jack nodded. “It doesn’t explain the animal carcasses, though. Wait here; I’ll go and ask around and find out what’s happening.”  
  
Ianto watched as his partner walked off and entered one of the tents. He didn’t have to wait long, however; within a minute, there was a loud yelp and Jack was running back out, looking rather flushed.  
  
“What did you do?” asked Ianto wearily.  
  
Jack swallowed. “Ianto…do you remember the time Gwen walked in on us in the greenhouse? Well…I kind of just did the exact same thing.”  
  
Ianto groaned as two men, one blonde and the other a pale brunette, came outside. It was painfully obvious that they had been, well, _disturbed_ and had dressed hastily before appearing. The taller - but probably younger - blonde man looked threateningly at them.  
  
Jack, however, appeared pretty impervious to this. “Something the matter, Blondie?” he asked. Behind him, he heard Ianto’s palm connect with his forehead as he groaned again. The brunette, however, snorted and turned rather pink when Jack grinned at him.  
  
The blonde man twitched. “I am Achilles,” he said, “son of Peleus and leader of the Myrmidons. This,” he pulled the other man forwards, “is my companion, Patroclus, son of Menoetius.”  
  
“Nice to meet you, Achilles, son of Peleus,” drawled Jack. “I’m Captain Jack Harkness and this is my,” he leered slightly, “companion, Ianto Jones – my companion in every sense of the word, as I would guess your Patroclus is too.” He grabbed the shocked warrior’s arm and dragged him off, chattering all the way.  
  
Ianto groaned again. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” he said, rolling his eyes for what felt like the millionth time since their arrival.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Patroclus spoke up, “you get used to it.” He smiled. “I’m Patroclus.”  
  
“Ianto,” said the Welshman cautiously.  
  
They shook hands. “How did you come to be here?” asked Patroclus. “I haven’t seen you two around and it’s been ten years, so…” He suddenly looked suspicious. “You’re not with the Trojans, are you?”  
  
Ianto blinked. “What – no, I – did you say Trojans?”  
  
Patroclus frowned at him. “Ianto…are you feeling well? Only, you look a little pale.”  
  
Ianto didn’t wonder that he was pale – his heart was beating a million times a minute as it clicked together about where they were – and, more importantly, _when_ they were.  
  
"I'm, um," he stammered, "I - Jack!" He raced back to the tent, where Jack was laughing - or _flirting_ \- with Achilles. He grabbed his partner's wrist and dragged him out of the way. "Jack, I was just talking with Patroclus and -"  
  
“Ianto,” said Jack, laughing. “If you wanted a foursome with Achilles and Patroclus, all you had to do was say so. I’m up for it – if you are.”  
  
Ianto groaned. “Of all the things to – no, Jack, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask!” He paused for breath, but then started to shake slightly.  
  
  
Jack, frowned, realising that his partner was serious. “Ianto, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking his hand and stroking it. “What’s going on? Please – you’re scaring me.”  
  
“I just…I figured out where and when we are. Jack, we’re in the final year of the Trojan War! I’ve read what happens next in the ‘Iliad’ and –”  
  
“Hey, hey, hey,” interrupted Jack, drawing him closer. “It’s okay; I’m here, I’m right here – you don’t need to worry; I’m right here and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise; I’ll keep you safe.”  
  
Ianto shook his head. “No, Jack, it’s not –”  
  
“Shh,” interrupted Jack, “I’ll find a way to keep you safe; I’ll do whatever it takes.” He smiled as he hugged Ianto tightly. “Don’t worry; you’re with the Captain, remember?”  
  
Ianto shivered slightly and tried to find the words to explain that he wasn’t worried about himself; he was worried about someone else – or rather, two other people.  
  
~*~  
  
Zeus gazed from his lofty peak at the scene unfolding beneath him, watching the two new arrivals as they spoke. “Hmm…” he mused. “Athena, my child,” he spoke then, summoning his daughter, “who are these people? They do not seem to be from our time.”  
  
Athena, her aegis flashing, followed her father’s gaze. “Indeed they do not,” she agreed. “But the young fair one appears troubled. He…knows things…that may yet happen, but the other will not understand…he does not see.”  
  
Zeus nodded. “You are right, my daughter,” he said. “We must watch them. I am the king of the gods and I shall watch them.”  
  
“You shall do no such thing!” Hera, overhearing this conversation, stormed over, her shining robes flying behind her. “Honestly, as if that Ganymede weren’t enough, you’re now setting your sights on mortals as well?” She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know why I wonder where your daughter gets it from.” She cast a disparaging look over at Aphrodite, who was apparently making herself beautiful – as usual – but in reality was arguing with Artemis. It was the same thing – Aphrodite could not understand the concept of chastity, no matter how hard it was drummed into her.  
  
Apollo rolled his eyes and came to stand by Athena as the two goddesses began to fight – as usual. “Do you ever get the feeling we’re the best two?” he asked.  
  
“All the time,” she replied. “We’re surrounded by idiots.” To Zeus, she said, “Father, I will watch things from above and step in when necessary.”  
  
Zeus scowled, but at a look from his wife, he submitted. However, when she had gone, he stole another look at the new pair, being very taken by the younger one.  
  
“Ianto Jones,” he mused, “is a ravishing being, but he sees much – maybe too much.” He sighed, about to turn away, until he saw the two men kissing.  
  
“On second thoughts…” he mused and then sat down to watch the show. He chuckled slightly.  
  
“By the way,” he mused. “Love the wet clothes.”  
  
Oh, he loved being the king of the gods sometimes. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning - here be smut! :P
> 
> I know, guys. But I had to. I just HAD to. Because pretty soon, things are gonna get REALLY messy!

**Part 2**

The crimson sunset lit up the whole ocean as if it was on fire. Further up, the waves swept onto the shore, as gently as the clouds above as they softly deteriorated into white trails, pale as moonlight against the slowly darkening seashore. Only the starry light of a few campfires were left as an indicator that there were even ships or huts there at all.

At this point, as he immersed himself in the cool water, Ianto would never have thought that he was in the middle of one of the greatest wars in ancient history. Here, and now, there was only him and the atmosphere surrounding him and he was at peace. He trailed his fingers through the water and closed his eyes, listening to the music of the waves.

A small fish found its way around his ankle, causing him to smile at the sensation; it was different, but not unpleasant. If anything, it felt like silk, though not the silk that his ties were usually made of. Perhaps it was the water that made it seem unusual.

He sat up slightly and smiled when he saw that the water by the shore was rippling and a familiar figure approached him, his chest shimmering in the pale light as he came closer. 

“Hi,” whispered Jack as he nipped at his bare shoulder, his hair rustling in the wind.

“Hi, yourself,” replied Ianto, trying not to shiver in pleasure as he realised that his partner was just as naked beneath the water as he was. “What took you so long?”

Jack chuckled as he lifted the younger man in his arms, gently rubbing circles over his smooth thighs. “Does it matter?” he whispered, running his tongue over Ianto’s fingers and chuckling slightly as he groaned. “I’m here now.”

Ianto gasped heavily, small beads of sweat finding their way down his forehead. “You…you’re talking too much,” he panted as he leaned down and licked at Jack’s nipples, something he knew would drive him wild with desire…but he wasn’t going to do anything more. That could wait; he wanted to make the most of this moment.

Jack laughed softly into his hair as his hands ran up and down his back, brushing away the drops of water and planting soft kisses on his shoulder.

“Ianto,” he moaned, “I need you…I need you to love me.”

Ianto stopped in the middle of stroking Jack’s hip bone and looked up. His eyes were glazed over, but still managed to appear beautifully confused. “Jack, surely you know I love you,” he panted, reaching downwards.

However, Jack stopped him as he caught his wrist and stroked it. “I don’t mean that,” he whispered. “I don’t need you to make love to me or do those wicked things you do to me when we’re alone together. Heck, I don’t even need to feel your wild tongue running through my teeth or your lips against mine…I just need you here, I just need to hold you in my arms and feel that soft hair on your chest against my heart.”

Ianto stared at him, the passion and heat fading from his eyes as he realised what his partner was saying. Jack’s cheeks were flushed and his lower body was twitching. But when he looked into his eyes he saw the sheer depth of his emotions displayed openly. They were like windows into the depths of his heart and soul.

“Jack…” he whispered, drawing him into his arms and running his long fingers through his hair as he buried his head into the side of Jack’s neck. Before he knew what was happening, Jack’s arms were around him and he was leading him through the water in a tender dance to the music of the beating waves mirroring the rhythm of his heart.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Jack murmured into his hair.

“Do what?” asked Ianto, tilting his head slightly as he gently trailed one finger all the way up Jack’s chest, feeling his strong muscles underneath him.

“Just…stand here, with you, doing what we’re doing,” Jack breathed out slightly, a bead of sweat dripping off his chin and tangling in the damp hair on Ianto’s chest. “You and me, right here; holding each other and dancing in the Aegean…that’s all I want right now. I just want to be right here…just with you, right here.”

He cupped his palms and gently poured a handful of water over Ianto’s head and shoulders. This felt so right; their bodies swaying so close together, the only thing in their way was a single droplet of water running over Ianto’s chest. He pressed that little bit closer so that one drop was now being shared by both of them. Now, this was how to dance; this was how they should have been dancing at Gwen’s wedding.

They were so lost in each other that they didn’t notice that the water had receded until a breeze began to blow around them, sending goose bumps over their exposed skin. He felt Ianto shudder slightly in his arms and whisper his name as…wait.

Jack furrowed his brow in confusion as he became aware of a wet feeling between his legs. He knew that feeling only too well, of course, but…no, Ianto’s arms were still where they had been originally – one round his neck and the other at his waist – and they had never moved once. His own arms had stayed in the same place as well, so…

Ianto looked at him then and smiled gently. “I never touched you,” he said, running a finger over Jack’s lips. “And you never touched me; not there, anyway.”

Jack chuckled a little. “I guess just being in each other’s arms was enough,” he whispered. “I know that it’s always enough for me, just to feel you here.” He brushed a gentle kiss over Ianto’s lips and ran his hands over his neck.

“Jack,” Ianto moaned again, trying to deepen the kiss, but before he could, Jack suddenly moved away, frowning slightly. Curious, Ianto turned his head slightly and smiled when he saw what had captured his partner’s attention. There, curled up in the surf, his wet blonde hair clinging to his cheeks, was Achilles and he was cradling Patroclus in his arms, brushing kisses over the brunette’s collarbone. Their sweat-dampened bodies lying in the white waters had to be one of the most erotic sights Jack had seen in a long time.

Suddenly, he knew that he wanted to be a part of it and, judging by the way his breathing had sped up, Ianto did too. His face was flushed and his eyes were fixed on them just as a sailor’s would be fixed on the North Star to guide him home.

As if he had heard those thoughts, Achilles suddenly sat up and their eyes met. A moment later, Patroclus’ sleepy gaze followed and he managed a small smile. Ianto blushed slightly, but he didn’t turn away.

Jack looked at them and saw the unspoken question in Achilles’ eyes. He smiled slightly and nodded before walking over and, very slowly, claiming the man’s lips with his own. It was a tiny, chaste kiss, but it was so full of need and want and everything in between that, somehow, it just felt so right. He didn’t even need to look back to see Ianto’s smile, but he did feel a jolt race through him as he felt his familiar arms slip around his waist.

After a moment, however, Achilles stepped away slightly and led Jack and Ianto into the shallow waters again where Patroclus was waiting for them, lying on his side, the soft hair on his pale chest flattening downwards as the water hit it. He was smiling softly, but his eyes were burning with a fiery passion as he took Jack’s hand.

That was the first moment in a while that Jack turned to look at Ianto. The question was clear in his face; _Are you sure about this?_ The answer came back, equally clear. _Are you?_ It was amazing how much the young man could say with just his eyes.

When Jack still looked a bit uneasy, however, Ianto decided to take matters into his own hands. He walked straight into the water and touched Achilles on the shoulder, before pulling him in for a kiss. After a moment, he pulled away and smiled at them.

That was all the incentive Jack needed and, in one fluid move, he slipped into the water, eventually surfacing to lie beside Patroclus, letting the waves slip over them for a second. Then, he leaned over and gently began to kiss his way up the brunette’s stomach, feeling his legs shiver as his nose burrowed in the hair on his chest. Patroclus moaned quietly and then started to wriggle when Achilles came over and started to kiss his hair.

Then, it was Jack’s turn to gasp as, taking him completely by surprise, Ianto started to nip at the side of his neck and massage his buttocks gently. He squirmed, groaning in pleasure at the sensation, for a moment forgetting Patroclus kissing his neck and focusing only on his partner as his damp hands began to stroke against his opening.

Achilles groaned loudly as he felt Patroclus’ hands on him and for a moment he completely forgot about Jack kissing his hipbone. In that moment, both men completely surrendered themselves to their partners, even as they caressed and kissed each other. Achilles bucked his hips against Jack’s mouth as Patroclus penetrated his defences, letting out a small gasp of pleasure.

The sun had set by now and the stars were twinkling and shimmering overhead. Or at least, that was what Jack was seeing as he felt Ianto moving inside him, his sweat-soaked body melting against him as he thrust and trembled. Suddenly, Achilles let out a guttural moan and the sight of his face illuminated by starlight was enough to send Jack over the edge. With a breathless gasp, he let himself go and erupted all over Patroclus’ stomach. Moments later he was shivering all over as, with equal silence, Ianto emptied himself inside him and then collapsed, letting the water wash over their bodies.

Achilles took a moment to come down from his climax before he reached over and gently kissed Patroclus on the lips, running his hands through his hair. Patroclus shivered in his arms and pressed closer to his leader, enjoying the velvety feel of Jack’s seed as it was massaged into their skin.

~*~

Ianto stirred slightly, blinking against the pale yellow light of the dawn. Glancing up, he quickly realised that he was not in the hut he usually shared with Jack. Instead, they were both huddled under a couple of blankets inside one of the Myrmidon ships.

Turning slightly, he saw that Jack was lying beside him and stroking his hair gently.

“Hi,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss him. “You crashed out last night; Achilles and I carried you back here.”

“If I did crash out, it’s because you three tired me out,” retorted Ianto, but he was smiling as he said it. “It was pretty amazing, though.”

Jack smiled. “It was,” he said softly, “and I don’t just mean the sex, although I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. Just…being with you in the water was…incredible. I was trying to think of a time when it had ever felt so right and…I couldn’t. It was perfect, Ianto. It was so perfect and yet so simple; we were just –”

“Dancing in the Aegean,” replied Ianto. “I know.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

When they had first arrived at Troy, Jack had thought that there was nothing better than the sight of Ianto in a wet white toga. However, when the Welshman appeared in front of him two days later, he realised that he might have to revise that opinion.  
  
“Nice,” he said, winking appreciatively. “You know, I never thought of you in armour, but it really looks fantastic on you.”  
  
Ianto smiled cheekily. “You don’t look so bad, yourself,” he said. “I love the sandals too – always thought the lace-ups looked very sexy on you.”  
  
“Well…my ankles are one of my best features.”  
  
“Oh, I won’t argue with that. Mind you, I’d be careful if I were you – you don’t want to end up getting tan-lines, now do you?”  
  
Jack snorted. “Careful with your manners, young man,” he said, before kissing him quickly. “Where’s Achilles then?”  
  
“He went off to speak with Agamemnon a little while ago and they summoned the others. It all seemed pretty civil between them, actually.”  
  
Jack frowned. Although they had only been there for two days, it was already clear that their new friend did not see eye to eye with his leader, the son of Atreus. He respected him as a fighter, that was for sure, but he didn’t like him very much. From what they had heard from Patroclus, as well as from the wise Odysseus, Achilles felt that he wasn’t treated with the respect due to a great hero such as himself. It was said, in fact, that he was the only one who was a match for the Trojan prince, Hector.  
  
Personally, as fond as he was becoming of him, Jack thought that Achilles had a bit of a swollen head, though he had to admit that Agamemnon did not exactly appear to be a favourable character himself.  
  
Ianto shrugged when these opinions were voiced. “You have to consider that this is a very different society to ours, Jack,” he said. “For these men, being the best at what they do is what they know best. They hope to gain fame as heroes by killing other heroes.”  
  
“I know, but,” Jack shook his head. “It just doesn’t seem like much of a life, somehow.”  
  
“No, but it’s what they know. You’ve been in war, Jack; you have a sense of honour.”  
  
“But it’s not really honour to kill men, if they’ve not done anything wrong,” said Jack. “In fact, it’s the worst type of dishonour I can think of. A true hero, Ianto – a true hero isn’t judged on the number –”  
  
“A true hero isn’t judged on the number of lives he takes, but on the number of lives he saves. I know that, Jack, I know, but that’s not the way things work around here.” Ianto flopped down with a sigh. “You don’t have to like it, but while we’re here, we’re just going to have to learn to live with it.”  
  
Jack shrugged. “When we get back, I swear I am going to be having words with the Rift.”  
  
“If we get back, you mean.”  
  
“No – _when_ we get back. Hey,” Jack caught Ianto’s face in his hands. “We _will_ get back.”  
  
“Mmm,” Ianto murmured and rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Hey – when did this conversation get so intense all of a sudden?”  
  
“Oh…I was saying that I didn’t think much of Agamemnon from what Patroclus and Odysseus have told us.” Jack sat up with a smirk. “But before that…I believe I was telling you exactly how good you look in that armour.”  
  
“Oh, yeah – and I was warning you about tan-lines, which, by the way, you really should be paying attention to.”  
  
Jack growled at him. “Careful, or I might find a new way of…punishing you. In fact…” and he swooped on his partner and started tickling every inch of skin he could reach, before he leaned further down and kissed him gently. Ianto moaned and wrapped an arm around his neck, his blue eyes shimmering adorably.  
  
Things were just starting to progress, when they were distracted by voices outside. Jack turned round and opened the front of the tent. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the still glaring sun, but he managed to make out the towering figure of Agamemnon, and two other men whom he didn’t know. The king of Mycenae was speaking now, but Jack was too far away to hear what was being said. However, it appeared that Agamemnon was giving orders, because a moment later he walked away with a wave of his hand and his head held high in the air, while the other two exchanged glances and walked miserably up the beach.  
  
Jack and Ianto, who had appeared to see what was going on, frowned as they saw them tentatively approach the black ship of Achilles. Jack urged them closer; not close enough to hear what was being said, but close enough for Patroclus to give them an apprehensive look when, at a command from his companion, had brought from the hut a pretty young woman, whom he led towards the two strange men. Just as reluctantly as they had approached Achilles, she followed them back down the beach.  
  
Ianto frowned then as Jack approached Achilles himself, clearly about to ask what had just happened. Something about this wasn’t right; it was all too familiar, but not in a good way. He realised what it was when Achilles suddenly sank onto the sand and started weeping copiously. Even from a distance, Jack looked rather shocked and reached out to try and comfort him – only to receive a punch in the jaw from the distraught warrior. Patroclus came forwards and rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder, whispering to him and urging him to leave them. Jack looked concerned but did so. At the same time, Patroclus turned towards Ianto and gave him an apologetic look – but Ianto didn’t notice it.  
  
“Oh my God,” he whispered as he realised what had just happened. “It’s starting…I told Jack what was going to happen and…he heard it all there – and he’s done nothing.”  
  
Jack joined him moments later, rubbing his cheek. “Man, he’s got a good right hook.” He did have a rather spectacular bruise, but Ianto wasn’t feeling especially sympathetic towards him at that particular moment.  
  
It was possible that Jack realised this, because he suddenly looked worried. “What is it?” he asked and then blinked in shock as Ianto grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from the scene. “Ianto, what’s going on?”  
  
“Achilles told you who that girl was, didn’t he?” said Ianto when they finally stopped. “He also told you what went on in that meeting, didn’t he?”  
  
“Yes, he did,” said Jack. “Ianto…there’s nothing between me and Achilles; sure, I might have flirted with him a little bit, but it’s not like –”  
  
“Oh, for God’s sake, Jack!” shouted Ianto. “That’s not the point! Don’t you remember what I told you yesterday? Don’t you remember me telling you about the quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles which culminated in Achilles storming out?”  
  
Jack looked confused. “Yeah, you told me that and – wait, was that it?” He stared at his partner. “Was that the one?” Ianto nodded. “Well, we can’t change what’s just happened. Plus, I think his mother – if that’s who that woman is – will do a better job than I will.”  
  
Ianto shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you, Jack? It’s not what’s just happened that I’m talking about. It’s what’s going to happen if we let this continue.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh, come on, Jack!” exploded Ianto. “I know you’ve not read the book, but surely you can remember bits of what I’ve told you.” When Jack merely looked baffled, he groaned. “Okay – well, listen to this.” He then proceeded to explain what would happen in a few weeks; how Patroclus would lead the Myrmidons into battle wearing Achilles’ armour and how he would eventually be killed by Hector. He described Achilles’ grief when he would hear the news and his violent return to the fold and finally, the duel with Hector.  
  
Jack frowned. “That’s horrible, but…what can we do?”  
  
Ianto frowned at him. “What do you mean, what can we do? I would have thought that was obvious – we find a way to stop it, while we still can. We talk to Achilles and tell him what’s going to happen if he does leave the Greeks. We might not be able to stop Achilles and Agamemnon fighting – that’s already happened – but at least we might be able to stop the aftermath…and stop Achilles losing someone he cares deeply for.” He looked hard at Jack, silently appealing to his own fear of exactly that.  
  
Jack sighed. “Ianto,” he said gently, “this could be a part of history as we know it. I know you said that the ‘Iliad’ isn’t necessarily a first-hand account of the Trojan War…but it could easily have been what happened. If we meddle in anything, we could change history; we could even change our own future and cause all sorts of problems.”  
  
“But we have to at least try!” cried Ianto desperately. “Listen; if this goes ahead, Achilles will lose Patroclus and the Trojans will lose Hector! We have the power to stop it!”  
  
Jack looked pained. “I know, Ianto, I know; and I don’t want Achilles and Patroclus to be separated any more than you do. I do want to help them, but,” he leaned over and stroked Ianto’s cheek. “If this is history, if this is what really happened, then we can’t risk changing it, even if it may not be accurate. We can’t take that risk, you know that. I’m sorry, Ianto; it’s not that I don’t want to help them…it’s that I don’t think we can.”  
  
Ianto’s beautiful face crumpled for an instant, but before he could speak, a figure appeared from the shadows. He turned round and was immediately greeted by the frowning expression of Odysseus. Jack turned pale and tried to catch his arm, but the Ithacan held them both back. He looked mistrustful, but interested.  
  
“I don’t know what you two were talking about just then,” he said coolly, “but I don’t want to see Achilles lose the one person who understands him and if there’s any way I can prevent that, then I will help you – if you tell me how you know this will happen.”  
  
Jack shook his head sharply, but Ianto, driven by his desire to protect people, found himself becoming reckless. Before he knew what he was doing, he found that he had blurted out the entire story. When he finished, Odysseus stared at him.  
  
“I would almost think that you were mad were it not for the earnest look in your eyes,” he said. “I find myself trusting you and wishing to help you. Just tell me how.”  
  
A broad smile broke out across Ianto’s face, but before he could speak, Jack took the cunning warrior’s arm. “I’ll take it from here,” he said. “Ianto, go back to the hut and wait for me. I’ll handle this myself for now. Don’t worry; I won’t be long.”  
  
Ianto smiled slightly as he walked in the opposite direction and sat down in their small dwelling. It appeared that Jack was coming round already! Suddenly, he was starting to wonder if it was possible. Could they save Patroclus? If they did – and if Hector survived as well – then surely it wouldn’t affect the future too much, would it? He had read Virgil’s ‘Aeneid’ well, and he knew the story of Hector’s fellow Trojan Aeneas founding Rome. Well, if this went well, he could be looking at having Hector by his side as well.  
  
Jack was certainly true to his word; less than twenty minutes had passed before he returned. He looked a little tired, but calm.  
  
“Everything all right?” asked Ianto when he came in.  
  
“Fine – Odysseus is just fine.”  
  
Ianto smiled. “So, he’s going to help us?”  
  
Jack sighed. “I didn’t say that, Ianto. Look, there’s nothing we can do; what’s going to happen is going to happen and there’s nothing we can do to change it.”  
  
“But…you said – you said you’d handle this now.”  
  
“I know, and I have handled it. I did what I had to do, Ianto.” He looked hard at his partner and suddenly the implications of those words became all too clear.  
  
“Jack,” he gasped. “Jack, tell me you didn’t.”  
  
“I had to. We can’t risk changing things, Ianto, not when this could easily be history. I know you say that there’s a strong possibility of it being myth, but, especially now that we’re here, it’s too big a risk to take.”  
  
“You gave him Retcon?”  
  
“I’m sorry,” said Jack, and he truly was. “But there’s nothing we can do.”  
  
~*~  
  
Zeus groaned as he watched the scene unfolding from above. “I feared this would come to pass,” he said wearily. “The young one saw too much…what he did could have proved to be extremely dangerous if he had not been stopped.” He shook his head and turned to his wife. “There are difficult times ahead for these two.”  
  
“Will they be strong enough to get through them?”  
  
Zeus sighed. “That is as yet unclear,” he said. “For now, we can only hope.” He stroked his beard grimly. “It’s times like these that I hate being king of the gods.”


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

Jack reached out for his partner’s arm. “Ianto, I…

“How did you do it, Jack?” asked Ianto, still not looking at him. “How did you Retcon him? We lost our clothes in Rome, remember? All we had were those togas.” 

Jack shook his head. “Trust me; you don’t want to know.” He gave Ianto – or rather the back of Ianto’s head – a meaningful look. 

“Oh, I think I do,” retorted Ianto, finally turning round slightly. “If you’ve got access to Retcon that I don’t know about, how do I know you won’t use it on me?” He saw the meaningful look that Jack was giving him, understood its significance, but ignored it.

Jack felt as though he’d just been slapped. “Ianto, I would never do that to you,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t do that unless I had no other choice, you know that.” 

He looked so hurt at the accusation that Ianto began to feel a bit guilty. Deep down, he knew that Jack wouldn’t do that without considering all other options, but he was still feeling too resentful towards him to really care at the moment. He couldn’t believe that Jack had Retconned Odysseus, when the wily Ithacan had been willing to help them; of all people, surely Jack would know what it was like to lose someone and would do anything he could to try and stop it. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Ianto,” said Jack suddenly, touching his shoulder. “And you’re right; I don’t like the thought of anyone losing someone they care about and I would do anything if it meant I could stop it. But I can’t change history like that. There are some things that shouldn’t be meddled with, and history is one of them.”

“But we don’t know that this is history!” retorted Ianto. “For all we know, we could have walked into a myth, or something! It’s not like, I don’t know, the eruption of Vesuvius, Jack! I know that we couldn’t change that, but this might be different. Listen to me; I know I quote the ‘Iliad’ left, right and centre, but we don’t know if everything happens the way that it says it happens. It’s the best source I know, but it may not be entirely accurate. Some of the things that occur may be totally based around –”

“Myths and legends, yes I know, Ianto, I know,” interrupted Jack. “And I do agree with you on that front, I really do – I see where you’re coming from. Having said that, it’s also the very fact that we don’t know that’s the problem. For all we know, it could be accurate history, if not an eye-witness account of what happened. I realise that it may seem unlikely, but we can’t just assume that it’s a legend. It’s too dangerous – and, to be honest, I thought you would understand that.” 

“I do understand that. I just…” Ianto shook his head with a sigh. 

“You don’t want to see anyone lose someone they love,” finished Jack. “I know that, and I do understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But we have to think about the bigger picture here. It’s the choice we always face; we have to choose between what we know to be the right choice and the easy choice.” He waited for Ianto to speak, but when he didn’t, he sighed slightly. “You know that, Ianto.” 

“I know that,” admitted Ianto quietly. “It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Jack threw his hands in the air. “Why are you being so stubborn?” he hissed. “I can understand that you want to protect people, but you’re being a bit unreasonable now.”

“I’m being unreasonable?!” exclaimed Ianto, spinning round to finally look at his partner properly. He caught himself and lowered his voice. “I wasn’t the one who went behind someone else’s back with Retcon!” 

He waved away Jack’s attempted response. “I can almost live with the fact that you did it, but I can’t believe that you just went behind my back like that. Yes, Jack; you did go behind my back – you didn’t tell me until after you’d done it!” 

“What else could I do?” asked Jack, also keeping his voice quiet, but there was no mistaking the anger there. “I’m working for the greater good, here and sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the greater good.”

“But you chose not to tell me what you were doing until after you did it! You told me that you were going to handle this – you let me think you were going to let him help us. Then, I find out that you had no intention of doing that!” He sat down and stared at the ground. “I thought you’d at least be honest with me about that.” 

“Oh, because you’ve never gone behind my back, have you?” retorted Jack. “Let’s not forget who was the one who hid a half-converted Cyberwoman in the basement – and yes, I could have Retconned you after that – and who went behind my back again, with the business about the island, after I specifically told Gwen to leave it! While I won’t deny that you were right in saying that she needed to know, I still can’t believe you were so underhand about it – that really hurt.” 

He paused for breath and when he spoke, his voice was dead quiet. “So, don’t you dare try and talk about honesty with me.” 

Ianto stared at him coldly. When he spoke, his voice was easily as quiet as Jack’s but it was so toneless that it was like stepping into the Void. It even scared him when he spoke.

“And what about you?” he retorted. “Well, maybe ‘what about us?’ would be a better question. Why are you really with me?”

“Why am I – oh, come on, Ianto, I’m with you because I want to be!” Jack ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know how I can be any clearer with you; I’m here with you – heck, I’m with you – because it’s where I want to be! Do you honestly think that I would be with you if I didn’t want to be?” 

“No, but you can’t exactly pretend that I was your first choice.” Ianto knew that he was being melodramatic, but he was just too angry to care. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t try it Jack; you’re only with me because Gwen won’t have you!” 

The moment he said those words, he wished he could take them back. Jack’s face crumpled in horror and disbelief. It was plain that he was beyond hurt; he was distraught. 

“I thought you knew me better than that, Ianto,” he said quietly. “But maybe it’s for the best; now that you’ve said that, I can see that maybe we shouldn’t be together.” 

“Jack, I didn’t –” 

“No; just go away, Ianto. Please – just go.” 

“Jack –”

“Just go.” 

Ianto sighed, but he left anyway and walked around the beach. For a while he wandered around nearby, as if he was hoping that Jack would call him back again. 

But he didn’t. And, if he was honest, Ianto couldn’t blame him.

As he walked up the sands, trying to calm down a little, he found himself feeling more and more disgusted by what he had just said. Yes, he had been angry with Jack, but had it really warranted that outburst? Besides, even if Jack had felt something for Gwen, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t love Ianto now, so…why did it even matter? It wasn’t as if he was going to go off with her, especially now that she was married.

“And he’s shown me so many times that he’s committed,” he whispered to himself. “He’s told me things he hasn’t told anyone else; he’s trusted me with his life, almost.” He laughed mirthlessly. “And look how I’ve repaid him. I should go and apologise. Jack’s right; I was being unreasonable.” 

Unfortunately, as he had been walking, it had grown dark and he quickly realised that he had no idea where he was. There was no sign of the familiar sight of the Greek ships – or, come to think of it, of the sea itself. However, he did eventually see a light shining ahead and went straight towards it – only to run smack into someone approaching.

“Who’s there?” asked an unfamiliar voice. “Show yourself!” 

Ianto swore under his breath; looking around, he seemed to be going inland rather than towards the coast. That wasn’t good. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards, towards the light and blinked when he saw a tall man looking at him cautiously. One hand was holding the torch and the other was hidden, but Ianto wouldn’t hesitate to guess that it was ready to draw a weapon if the need arose.

“I’m not armed,” he said, holding out his hands. “And I’m not a spy, either.”

The man looked startled. “You are neither Greek nor Trojan,” he said. “In fact, I sense that you are not from these lands. I am Polydamas, son of Panthous.”

“Hector’s advisor,” whispered Ianto.

“You know of me?” 

Oops. “I, erm…”

“Who are you?”

“I – I’m…” but his knees suddenly gave out and, finding himself consumed by exhaustion and guilt he collapsed in the man’s arms and broke down in tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not loud enough to be heard by anyone. “Jack, I’m so sorry.” 

He had no idea of this, but, back on the shore, Jack was doing the exact same thing.

~*~

Ares, the raging war-god, watched with a sigh. “This doesn’t look good,” he remarked. The others stared at him, eyebrows raised. “What? It doesn’t.” 

“What can we do?” asked Athena.

“Nothing,” said Zeus heavily. “We cannot interfere with mortals. We may take sides in this war, but we cannot act on our feelings.”

“You are,” Hera pointed out.

“I have a duty to a wronged one. I would not have done it had Thetis not begged me – and had I not seen Achilles’ devastation myself.” 

“So…we just wait?” asked Apollo.

“What else can we do?” answered Artemis. “We can’t interfere; this is something they have to figure out for themselves.”

Apollo said nothing, but he did favour his sister with a scowl. In truth, he had taken an interest in these mysterious men who had suddenly arrived. They had seemed so close when they had arrived, but now they were on different sides. He hated the idea of a pair of lovers separated; he’d seen it before too many times. 

Athena seemed to sense his feelings and came to stand beside him. “They’ll be all right,” she said. “There may be anger, but they have love on their side and that will never die.” 

“But will it be strong enough to get them through this?”

“Yes.” Athena’s voice was so firm that everyone turned to stare at her. “It will be strong enough; they have seen many horrors in their lives and they have gotten through them together. They can hold on to each other; even when they’re apart, their love will pull them through. Once the anger clears, then they will see.”

“And while that happens, what do we do?” asked Aphrodite, who had come bounding in.

“We just keep watching.” Hephaestus’ worn voice resonated among them. “We keep doing what we do. It will take time, but we must wait.” 

In hindsight, Zeus had no idea what made him say it. It was almost as if there was someone there being channelled through him that made him say it. 

“Let’s all have sex.” 

There was a long silence. Athena was the first to recover and, quite calmly, she straightened her aegis and walked away, closely followed by Apollo, Artemis and Ares. Even Aphrodite seemed a bit shocked as she left them. 

Hera, however, stayed behind and looked at her husband thoughtfully.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

The sun rose, bringing the rosy-fingered dawn with it. Stirring slightly, Achilles opened his eyes, blinking against the rising light. He cast an affectionate glance at the sleeping figure of Patroclus, stretched and sat up. Taking care not to rouse the other man, he clothed himself in a short tunic and stepped outside, to be greeted by a familiar sight.

Every day, for twelve days now, Achilles had stepped outside to be greeted by the sight of Jack standing on the beach. Usually, he was gazing out towards the sea, but this time he was staring inland – towards Troy.

Achilles had never known what to say to him before, but now, seeing where he was looking, it suddenly seemed obvious. Cautiously, he approached Jack and, as he came to stand beside him, he rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t give up,” he said quietly.

Jack looked at him sharply. “He’s in there,” he said quietly. “I’ve been walking everywhere every night since he left, trying to find him. Last night, I saw him there. It was only a silhouette against a window, but I knew that it was him.”

Achilles bit his lip, frowning. He knew his reputation as a swift-footed and fierce warrior was no good here. He had grown closer to Jack since Ianto had disappeared, but he still didn’t know what to say to him about it, partially because he did not know exactly what had happened between them.

Jack shook his head. “When I found out he was alive, I just came and sat here, trying to decide what to do next. I want to see him, I really do, but…at the same time, he said some things I didn’t think he was capable of. It hurt so much; I know I’m not perfect and I know I’ve hurt him in the past but…it just felt like he didn’t know me at all any more.”

“You love him,” said Achilles quietly. “I know you do, and that’s why it hurts so much. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know you will sort it out. I can see it in your eyes; you love him too much to lose him.”

Jack nodded. “I just,” he seemed to struggle with the words. “I don’t know where we stand any more. I want him back so badly, but…I just don’t know what to do.” He turned his head slightly. “I’m scared that when I do see him, I’ll say something I’ll regret.”

“Then don’t say anything at all just yet,” said Achilles simply. “Wait until you feel that you can –” he stopped suddenly and looked around, a frown crossing his handsome face.

Jack followed his eyes and saw Agamemnon and the other warriors congregating on the beach. He could see them being summoned by the heralds, but they were too far away for anything else to be made out clearly, except that Agamemnon seemed to be telling them something important, because everyone was watching him avidly, until he sat down. Then wise old Nestor took the stand and began to speak. Jack smiled at that – he liked Nestor; the man was intelligent and a great storyteller. His stories had been a great comfort to him in the first days after Ianto had left.

Suddenly, he felt Achilles stiffen beside him. Looking round, he saw that the godlike warrior’s eyes had turned as hard as stone and his face had tensed. Following his gaze, Jack saw Agamemnon had turned in their direction and his eyebrows were knitted slightly, but as soon as he realised that he was being watched, he turned away.

“Don’t let him get to you,” said Jack. “You did the right thing.”

“I’m not letting him get to me,” replied Achilles. He gave Jack a tense smile and then walked away, returning to his hut. He sat down with a small sigh, only to start slightly as he felt movement beside him. Turning, he saw Patroclus looking at him with wide eyes, still slightly shadowed with tiredness.

“Where were you?” he asked, sitting up slightly, his bare chest seeming to flush in the rosy light of dawn.

Achilles smiled. “I was just outside, talking to Jack,” he said, stroking his companion’s hair. “He’s been lonely recently.” He didn’t tell Patroclus what Jack had said about Ianto, thinking that the other man would want to keep that private for now.

For his part, Patroclus nodded. “I know. He thinks that no one sees it, but…one person did.” Reaching out, he touched Achilles’ face gently. “He saw him in the same way that I can see you…he saw him for who he really is.”

Achilles nodded. “He made the effort to look beneath the surface and see the man behind the hero,” he said quietly, “just as you did with me.” Brushing his hand over Patroclus’, he placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “That means more than anything to me.”

~*~

Ianto watched from a distance as Hector conversed with his wife, Andromache, holding her gently she wept in his arms, but still looking straight at her and talking earnestly.

He had seen that look before many times and he knew what it meant; Hector was not going to give up. He would not be seen as a coward. Ianto respected him for that, but he couldn’t help hating him for it as well, even though he knew it wasn’t fair; Hector wasn’t to know what his fate would be. And even if he did, he was an exceptional warrior and he would accept his death bravely. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to think of it, especially seeing the man with his wife and son.

He stifled a chuckle when he saw Hector reach out for the baby then and the child screeched in fright at the sight of his father with the flashing helmet. Hector and Andromache laughed too and the Trojan warrior took off his helmet and kissed his boy. The scene was so tender and intimate…and suddenly, Ianto realised that he wasn’t laughing any more. What had initially been amusing was suddenly heartbreaking as he thought about what he had done less than two weeks ago.

When he watched Hector caress Andromache’s white hand and speak softly to her, he felt his stomach clench painfully as he remembered how Jack would do the same to him when he was upset. He held her gently for a few moments before taking his helmet up again. Ianto didn’t see him say anything to her, but she turned away instantly and walked off, looking backwards regularly, though her eyes seemed blinded by her tears. It seemed as though she thought that this would be the last time she would see her husband alive and it broke Ianto’s heart. He knew what would come soon and, while this would not be the fatal blow…there was not a lot of time left.

With a sigh, he turned away from the scene before him and made his way out of the palace, anticipating what was going to happen.

Outside, he listened to Hector addressing both armies and proposing that he duel one of the Greeks. His speech was rousing and his words were fair, but he received no response for a long time. It wasn’t until Menelaus, brother of Agamemnon, stepped forwards and was about to speak, that someone came forth to accept the challenge. Ianto looked up, expecting to see the great Ajax, son of Telamon, stepping up.

But his heart leapt into his throat at what he saw. It wasn’t Ajax approaching them, clad in shining armour. It was Jack. He flashed his trademark grin.

“No!” whispered Ianto, without thinking. One of the Trojan soldiers beside him frowned suspiciously, but then shrugged, clearly thinking it had been a cough.

Suddenly, Jack’s head turned in his direction – and their eyes met for a second. Ianto gasped slightly as he saw his partner’s eyes widen in shock as he saw him. But the look lasted for only a second, before he was being pulled away by Agamemnon, who was whispering to him, no doubt telling him not to fight Hector. Of course; the Greeks didn’t know that Jack had a small problem staying dead – and Ianto wasn’t about to tell anyone.

Jack was clearly a little surprised by the leader’s words, but he hid it well and conceded surprisingly quickly. Clearly, he didn’t want everyone to know about him. Ianto ignored the part of his brain that said it was because Jack didn’t want him to see him die again.

_After the way I treated him, I don’t deserve that._

Eventually, it was Ajax who took up his place, smiling with joy as he came out to face the prince. Ianto smiled wryly as he saw a flicker of fear cross Hector’s face. He couldn’t say he blamed him; even Jack would probably have been scared.

He took a deep breath and waited, anticipating the duel.

~*~

In the three days since Ajax and Hector had duelled each other, with no result and had parted friends, Jack had barely been able to think straight. He had heard that the days since the duel had been violent and the balance had tilted regularly, until now it favoured the Trojans, to the extent that they were camped in front of the Greek lines of defence.

And yet…all he could think of was Ianto.

When Ianto had left him that night, Jack had been deeply hurt by the young man’s parting words to him. For a long time – until the day of that duel, in fact – he had actually found himself hurting so badly that even the thought of Ianto made him want to break something. But all that had changed when he had seen him in the Trojan ranks. Their eyes had met for only a second, but…that was enough. The minute he had seen him, he had realised that he hadn’t meant those words. They still hurt, and he knew that they would hurt for a long time – you didn’t just stop hurting like that, just because you realised that the person who said the words hadn’t really meant them. But knowing that Ianto had been angry and upset at the time helped a little.

Jack knew that three of the Greeks, among them Odysseus and Ajax, had come to speak with Achilles and appeal for his return. He was idly watching them, but he wasn’t really paying much attention to what was happening. Instead, his mind was on something else.

Watching Achilles and Patroclus interacting with each other, Jack realised that he was starting to see himself and Ianto when he looked at them. And then, he realised exactly why Ianto had wanted to change things; he didn’t want Achilles to go through the pain of losing the one person who truly understood him.

~*~

_Later that night…_

“Odysseus and Diomedes have gone off on a spying mission on the Trojans,” said Jack quietly once he had returned from the meeting. When Achilles nodded mutely, Jack sighed and walked away, sitting by the water and gazing at the stars. He wasn’t alone for long, though; after a few minutes, Patroclus came to join them.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“No,” admitted Jack. “I’ve not been able to sleep for a few days, to be honest.”

Patroclus sighed. “Don’t mind Achilles too much, Jack. I know he can be stubborn at times, but he’s really vulnerable underneath. It’s just that no one ever sees it, because they never try to.”

Jack nodded. “I know. But I wasn’t thinking about Achilles. I was thinking about you.”

He turned round to look at him. “I’ve realised that I’m scared for you, Patroclus. You remind me of…of someone else. You look beneath the surface to see what’s inside and you take the time to understand people.” He didn’t need to mention names for them both to know that he was talking about Ianto.

“I can’t change what’s happened, Patroclus,” he said sadly, “and I don’t know what will come in the future. But I can say that it is people like you who give me hope.” He looked him straight in the eye. “Achilles needs you, just as much as I need…”

For some reason, he wasn’t even surprised to feel Patroclus’ lips on his own.

~*~

When Hector had proposed that they send one of the Trojans, a man called Dolon, to spy on the Greek camp, Ianto had offered to go with him as back-up. He had watched the scene play out and felt so guilty that he wouldn’t be able to stop him without revealing something he shouldn’t that he had just offered to go with him. Now, just as he knew they would be, they had been captured by Odysseus and Diomedes.

Looking up, Ianto saw that Diomedes was all ready to do what he did in the book…but suddenly, Odysseus stopped him, his eyes widening.

“You!” he exclaimed. He blinked for a few seconds and gasped slightly. “You…you came with…came with him…I saw you…heard you…”

Ianto instantly recognised the symptoms of Retconned memories being triggered. Not even stopping to think, he used it to try and escape from Diomedes in the hope that he and Dolon would be able to return safely to Troy.

Predictably, it didn’t work. In fact, it was only Odysseus’ silent warning that stopped Diomedes from killing him. He knew Jack well and was quite clearly aware that the other man would not be happy that his partner was dead.

“Go,” whispered the Ithacan, “go…now.”

But Ianto couldn’t go; Dolon was still in danger and he didn’t want to leave him behind. He may just be a common man, but, as far as Ianto was concerned, that didn’t matter.

“Go,” hissed Dolon, however. “Just go, now. Stop being selfless!” he demanded. “You’re only one man; one man can’t save everyone, you know that. Go back to Troy.”

As much as he hated the idea of leaving a comrade behind, Ianto knew that the other man was right; he couldn’t save everyone. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pulled himself to his feet and ran back to Troy, Dolon’s screams resonating in his ears.

When he returned, he was greeted by Aeneas, who looked at him in concern. Gasping, he collapsed against him and told him the whole story of what had happened. Aeneas grabbed him and pulled him upright, gripping his shoulders.

“Dolon was right,” he said firmly. “You couldn’t have saved him and there was no point in you getting yourself killed as well.” He kissed Ianto on the forehead. “You did the right thing.”

 _The right thing…_ Jack’s voice suddenly sounded in Ianto’s mind. Hadn’t he always told him about the choice they faced; making the right choice as opposed to the easy one?

~*~

Athena nodded her head in satisfaction as she watched Hector return to the fold. He was a brave man, she would not doubt it, but her favourite Odysseus, and Diomedes, were strong men and fought back well. “We may not be able to interfere,” she said wryly, “but at least we can watch from above.”

Hera nodded. “There goes Nestor with Machaon,” she remarked. Suddenly, she saw Patroclus being sent to find out what was happening. “Well – it appears that Achilles has decided to take notice of what is happening.”

Athena nodded as she watched the man sit with Nestor and listen to a long story. “He cannot stay detached for ever and he’s beginning to realise it,” she said.

“Will he come back to the fight, do you think?” asked Apollo.

Athena smiled. “He will do what is needed when it is needed,” she said. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Jack sat up as he saw Patroclus approaching the Myrmidon ships. He moved to ask him what was going on, but the minute he saw the tears on his face, he knew that he didn’t have to ask that at all.

“How bad is it?” he asked instead, catching his hand.

“It’s bad,” answered Patroclus with a weary sigh. “There is almost no one standing. All our best men are injured; Agamemnon, Odysseus – even Diomedes!” He looked so woebegone that Jack’s tender heart was touched and he pulled him into his arms, trying not to wish that he could be holding Ianto like that. He spoke softly, letting the words fly over towards the distraught man.

“Go to Achilles,” he said, kissing his forehead. “Tell him what’s happening; if nothing else, he will listen to you.” Gently rubbing his hand, he followed him to where Achilles was sat at his ship. When he saw them, the leader moved swiftly and caught Patroclus’ shoulders, a concerned look in his eyes that didn’t match the words that, to Jack, almost sounded uncaring and hard. Patroclus was anything but a ‘little girl’! He couldn’t deny the stupidity of some of the Greeks, though. 

When the news of what was happening had been relayed, Patroclus took a moment to wipe his eyes, before he finally made his famous proposal. He suggested that he return to the battle himself, only wearing Achilles’ armour. 

Watching them, Jack couldn’t help but feel a bit shocked. He had known that this was going to happen, obviously, but he had never anticipated the pang of guilt that swept through him. It was then that he realised that Patroclus reminded him so much of Ianto; the only man who could get through to him and tell him when he was being an idiot – just as Patroclus had done so with Achilles now. 

For his part, Achilles was extremely worried as Patroclus pleaded with him. He knew well that what had just been said was true and, turning to look at Jack, he saw that he knew it as well. Jack, however, wasn’t looking at him; instead he was staring at the other man as if he had never seen him before. Looking at him, he realised something; when he looked at them, Jack was seeing himself and Ianto. The way that Patroclus was talking now…it was just like the way that the young man was with Jack; open and honest – and, in return, Jack was open and honest with him. 

It was this, perhaps, that spurred Achilles on to his next words. Taking Patroclus’ hands, he spoke softly, conceding that he was wrong to try and brood for ever. He didn’t say as much, but his words made his shame clear; he knew that he had acted badly and, deep down, he had always known it, but had been too angry to see it. But now, at least, he had a chance to do what was right. He may not say the exact words, but he could convey them in other ways. It was like Ianto had once said; it wasn’t what was said, it was what wasn’t said. It was all in the little things. 

Coming back to the present, he then agreed that Patroclus should save the ships, but that was all; he should not try to gain glory or do anything rash; just do what he had to do. His voice was firm and hard, but his eyes were gentle and it was plain that he cared.

Jack sighed. He knew perfectly well what was going to happen next and, while he still wasn’t sure if he could prevent it, he could at least help out. He started to put on his armour and gather his weapons (only just realising how strange it felt not to have his gun with him). Halfway through arming, however, he felt an urge to turn around and what he saw almost broke his heart. 

Achilles was standing alongside Patroclus, watching him arm himself and smiling slightly, his eyes shimmering with pride. Every so often, though, he would let his guard slip slightly and a look of bitter sorrow would pass over his face. It was only for a second, but it was so clear and so painful that Jack could barely look at him. 

Patroclus didn’t appear to be watching at first, but then, when he was fully armed, he finally looked up properly and caught the look before Achilles could turn away. He didn’t say anything but, as he stepped towards the chariot, he stopped and brushed Achilles’ hand with his, at the same time looking him straight in the eye. 

~*~

Ianto could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins as he rode across the plains alongside his partner. He could see Hector’s flashing helmet some distance away and smiled slightly as he saw him tearing through the Greek lines. It was still weird carrying a spear instead of a gun, but he was growing used to it – heck, he was almost enjoying it. He didn’t even find himself missing Jack as much as he used to. 

Suddenly, he heard a shout and barely managed to get out of the way as a long spear flew past his ear. He looked up and felt his heart in his mouth as he saw the massing ranks of the Myrmidon army bearing down upon them like a swarm of deadly bronzed ants. For a moment, Ianto froze in panic, before he remembered that it wasn’t actually Achilles there, but Patroclus. 

Then, for just one moment, he wondered what he was doing here. He remembered his argument with Jack – hadn’t the whole thing been about changing what was going to happen? And yet, here he was – in the middle of a melee, making no attempt to do what he had begged his partner to do. 

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that, however, as their ranks began to fall back under Patroclus’ onslaught. Ianto watched, horrified, as the field quickly turned into a bloodbath. He could barely bring himself to look at it. 

A rousing cry was what distracted him, however, and he looked to see the handsome figure of Sarpedon approaching, his eyes aflame as he called out to the army before him – his ranks of ‘beltless Lycians’, Ianto recalled vaguely. Then, he leapt from his chariot and so, on the other side, unnoticed by some, did Patroclus. They encircled each other for a few moments before charging. 

Ianto knew how this duel turned out, but he had never thought it would be so brutal. Patroclus, who had been so approachable towards him, seemed to have turned into something out of a nightmare. His spear never missed its target. Sarpedon was a brave fighter, but he never had a chance against the strong son of Menoetius. 

Ianto knew this. But it didn’t prepare him for the weight that slammed into his chest when he saw Sarpedon finally fall and call upon his friend Glaucus as he died. It didn’t prepare him for the rage that burned within him at the sight of Patroclus and the Greeks stripping his armour. 

At that moment, Ianto Jones ceased to exist. He felt like a warrior – he was a warrior; his eyes blazed with a fiery passion for blood that, at another time, would have scared him. 

But now, he knew no fear and he sprang towards Patroclus and, barely even stopping to consider, threw his spear. His arm was strong and his aim was accurate, striking the barbaric man in between the shoulder blades and sending him crashing down. It didn’t kill him, but moments later, Hector arrived on the scene, seeing him weakened and wounded. Ianto watched as the godlike prince sent his spear straight through his victim’s stomach and taunted him as he lay there, dying. There was a battle raging around him, but Ianto didn’t care – he didn’t even notice when he was shoved aside as a spear came at him. He vaguely recognised young Euphorbus, the very man who had first shown him how to throw a spear skilfully, and who smiled at him as he fell. He could see Menelaus rushing towards Patroclus’ body, but all else was lost in the drums of war.

And then…just as suddenly as it started, everything stopped. Hector, who moments earlier had been stripping the body, knelt as if frozen. Menelaus was staring in shock and puzzlement as he turned to the man stood beside him, who promptly hung his head. 

Every single man, whether he was Greek or Trojan, was stunned into silence. 

Curious, Ianto also edged forwards to see what had drawn their attention. He could see the half-stripped body of the man…but it wasn’t until he looked at his face that he realised why. 

The man he was looking at wasn’t Patroclus at all. 

It was Jack. 

~*~

Patroclus stood by Menelaus’ side as he watched Hector start to strip Achilles’ armour from Jack’s body. He could hardly stand to look at him when he had laid down his life for someone whom he had barely known. Suddenly, he realised what Hector was doing and sprang forwards to stop him.

That was when he caught sight of a familiar pair of blue eyes staring at him. He stared long and hard at him, wondering if he was dreaming. But then his strange voice sounded in front of him, as real as the day.

“Patroclus…I didn’t…”

But he didn’t need to hear any more. He had seen what had happened and he felt his anger rise. He sprang towards Ianto, his sword gleaming threateningly. The other man didn’t even have a chance to move as the sword pierced through his armour and penetrated his skin. Ianto didn’t even whimper as he slid to the ground, his blue eyes suddenly raw with so many different emotions as he fell onto Jack’s body and the cold sword slipped silently out of his chest. 

But then, to his utter shock, there was a loud gasp, as if all the air in the world was being gathered in one place. Moments later, and as he shuddered violently, Jack’s eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly. He smiled in relief when he saw that Patroclus was alive – but that joy quickly turned to horror when he realised that Ianto’s body was sprawled, unmoving, across his. He looked around for a few seconds as he got his bearings – and then his eyes fell on the bloodstained sword in Patroclus’ hand. 

The minute Jack saw it, he knew. He felt it…the shock turning to anger…the heat in his gut and the roaring in his ears…everything else faded away, all he could see was Patroclus…standing there, his sword stained with the blood of his lover…

He didn’t even remember getting up, or even moving. All he knew was that he was suddenly on his feet and Patroclus was lying on the ground, blood streaming from his slim white throat, his dark eyes gazing upwards. It was only when he heard the ringing silence around him that he realised what he had done…

He’d been a ruthless man once before, but this…it was beyond ruthless, it was almost sickening to see. Patroclus had actually thought him dead…he wouldn’t have stabbed Ianto if he hadn’t. 

Ianto…oh, God…what is he going to think of me? What am I going to tell Achilles? 

It was almost a relief when Hector came forwards, his helmet no longer flashing and his eyes unusually downcast. He looked at the dying man on the floor and nodded. With barely a look at anyone, he took his spear and plunged it deep, taking Patroclus’ life instantly. It was horrible, but at least he wouldn’t suffer.

There was a long silence…which was suddenly broken by a hoarse whisper behind him.

“Jack…” 

~*~

Hera’s eyes closed. “Well…they say things get worse before they get better,” she said hoarsely. “Let’s hope they get better now.”

Athena said nothing, but she closed her eyes, in a silent gesture of respect for the multitude of brave men who had fallen that day. 

There was no sound for a while after Hera’s voice. Zeus was stood at the back, still silently weeping for his son, Sarpedon and even Ares was too shocked to speak. Artemis and Aphrodite were, for once, united and sobbed in each other’s arms. 

Eventually, Apollo spoke and his words flew. 

“Now, they have to carry on.”

“How?” asked Artemis. “I don’t see how they can.”

“They can,” said Apollo, “they have been apart for a long time, but their love is strong. They will get through this and start again.” He turned to look at the other gods, his handsome face solemn. “The end is where they must start from.”


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

Jack stared around for a few seconds, allowing the tiny voice to filter through into his mind. Slowly, he turned around and saw the shivering figure of his partner lying on the field, blood staining his flashing armour as his eyes clouded over.

“Jack…” Even as he spoke now, his voice was fading; it was barely audible now. “I…I’m…” His eyes suddenly fluttered shut before he could finish the sentence.

And that was all it took. Jack snapped back into action and ran to the other man’s side, pressing his palms against the wound, which was perilously close to his heart. He cursed furiously as he realised that the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and Ianto’s breathing was growing shallower by the second. If something wasn’t done quickly, he would die. 

Fortunately, someone else seemed to realise this too, as Hector knelt down beside him, his dark eyes suddenly careworn. Even in Achilles’ armour, he looked almost unrecognisable from the strong hero he had been moments before. He looked at Ianto as one might look at their child and caressed his hair softly before he turned to Jack.

“Take him,” he whispered softly, “take him back…care for him and protect him…do for him what I could not do…what I was not strong enough to do.”

Jack nodded and picked the younger man up, holding him carefully. “Stand guard over…the body,” he choked to Menelaus, barely able to say Patroclus’ name; what right did he have to do that? “Just…protect him and keep him safe. Antilochus, with me – we have to take Ianto back to the camp and…tell Achilles what happened.” His voice sounded strange, toneless even, as he pulled himself to his feet, still cradling Ianto gently in his arms. “I will be the one to tell him; it’s my fault this happened.” 

But Menelaus was frowning. “What was that?” he asked. “You…you were dead.” 

Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“Doesn’t matter? Of course it matters!” A young Trojan soldier from the back ranks shouted out. “If you come to our side, you could win us the war!” 

Jack stared in shock, but before he could move, Hector sprang to his feet. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the young man by the shoulders and glared at him, eyes burning. But before he could speak, Ianto’s eyes fluttered open again. 

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Hector…don’t…you’re a better man than that.” 

Hector stared at him for a split second, before he lowered his gaze and shoved the man away from him, sparing him only a contemptuous look. “Go back,” he said stiffly, “go back and never speak of such things again at a time like this.” 

To Jack and Antilochus, he said, “Go…go with all speed and get him treated.” 

Jack nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered, before quickly kissing him on the forehead. “You are a good man, Hector.” He bowed slightly and then cleared his throat. “Antilochus – come; we should go, now.” 

~*~

Nestor was waiting at the ships when they arrived. His eyes widened when he saw Ianto still bleeding in Jack’s arms. “What – how – I thought –”

“Never mind that now,” snapped Jack. He raced down the line of ships. “Antilochus; go to Achilles and tell him what happened. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Jack –”

“Go!” Jack didn’t have the time or energy to argue; Ianto didn’t have much time and, with a cursory glance at Nestor’s son, he sprinted down the length of the beach, until he reached the hut he was looking for.

“Machaon!” he barked. 

The healer came out barely a moment later, looking bemused, but his eyes widened when he took in Ianto’s state. “I thought he was –”

“Not now!” shouted Jack, and then caught himself as Ianto moaned slightly. “I’ll explain later; for now, just…do what you can for him. I’ll come back soon.” His words were quiet, but they left no room for argument. 

Machaon simply nodded and gently lifted Ianto into his arms. A cold hand seemed to close around his heart as he saw the broken state of the young man. It wasn’t just the wound that was affecting him; there was something else, something much deeper. 

Jack sighed. “I must see Achilles,” he said. “I have some news for him…” He started to leave, but then suddenly turned back. “Thank you, Machaon.” 

The gentle son of Asclepius merely smiled. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

“Jack,” Ianto moaned suddenly, his eyes flickering open again.

“It’s okay,” said Jack gently, “I won’t be long.” 

“I’m…Jack…I…”

“Shh.” Jack came back and stroked Ianto’s head. “I’ll be back in a moment. I just have to find Achilles and tell him what happened.” Seeing the panicked look on his partner’s face, he smiled slightly. “Just relax…you’re going to be fine; we’re all going to be fine. We couldn’t save Patroclus, but I promise you, we will save someone…somehow.” 

Swallowing his tears, Jack walked back onto the beach, readying himself for what he was sure was going to be one of the hardest things he had done in a long time. 

He walked slowly towards the Myrmidon ships, where he was greeted by one of the most soul-destroying sights he had seen in a long time. Achilles had collapsed on the beach, his hair a mess and tears soaking his clothes as he rocked himself back and forth, his face an open mask of pain. Beside him was Antilochus, clinging to him and rocking himself as well as he clutched the other warrior’s hands tightly, almost as if he was afraid for him. 

Jack felt his own tears fall as he approached them. “Achilles,” he whispered, startled by the raw pain in his own voice. 

Thetis’ son glanced up and immediately his eyes flashed. Without warning, he pushed Antilochus off him and, ignoring the screams of the surrounding slave girls, launched himself at Jack. The other man didn’t even fight him; he knew that he deserved everything that he was getting from him. 

For his part, Antilochus just sat and watched helplessly, weeping copiously as he watched Jack fall to the ground. He had, of course, seen what had happened on the battlefield, but that did not mean he wanted to see it again. He wanted to help Jack up, but found that he couldn’t even move, not even to stretch out his fingers. 

When Jack eventually gasped back again, Achilles was staring out across the sea. “You told him?” he said cautiously to Antilochus.

“He already knew. I don’t know how, but he already did – or at least he suspected it.” Antilochus bit his lip. “I told him most of it, anyway. You arrived just as I was about to break the news that…Hector took his armour. But I just…I don’t know how I can tell him that…” he admitted, looking ashamed. 

Jack rested a hand on his back. “I’ll tell him. You’ve done your part, Antilochus. Go to your father; let him know that you’re safe.” 

He was so busy looking at Nestor’s son and rubbing his shoulders that he barely noticed the shadow falling over him until they were almost in complete darkness. When he looked up, Achilles was looking at him with an expression of complete bewilderment. 

Antilochus shook his head and, with a last sigh, he got up, pausing only to lay a comforting caress on Achilles’ cheek. The Myrmidon leader looked surprised, but he said nothing. Jack strongly suspected that he was too shocked to react. 

“Okay,” he said, “first up, all I can say is that I can die, but I can’t stay dead.” He looked straight up with a sigh. “Achilles, I am so sorry. I was just angry and I know that –”

“You thought you’d lost the one person who understood you. I understand that. Had I been the one there, I would probably have done the same.” 

“But I couldn’t kill him,” whispered Jack. “I slit his throat, but he still lived…Hector –”

Achilles turned to look at him. “Hector?” he said sharply. “Hector killed him…he killed him…” he suddenly looked hard at Jack. “He took the armour, didn’t he?” 

Jack bit his lip. “I’m sorry. But Hector did what he had to do.”

“He killed him.” Achilles’ eyes hardened. “He killed Patroclus…I’ll kill him…and he’s taken his armour…I’ll take him and when I’m finished…you won’t even know him.” 

Jack stared at him. “You can’t; you wouldn’t – Achilles, that’s inhumane…” but even as he said it, he knew that it was no good; Achilles’ eyes were turning wild and his body was beginning to shake uncontrollably. 

“I will avenge you, Patroclus,” he vowed, his voice resonating like Zeus’ thunderbolt as he stood up, tears pouring from his eyes once again. “I will kill Hector and avenge what was done to you.” He walked towards the water. “You shall not have died in vain; by all the gods I swear it.”

“Achilles, don’t,” pleaded Jack desperately, “you can’t want to –”

“Didn’t you do that for Ianto?” he retorted as he walked towards the water.

Jack sighed. It was true; he had done exactly that. Shaking his head, he walked away from the scene before him. The last thing he heard was Achilles’ wild scream.

When he reached and entered the hut he was looking for, the first thing Jack saw was that Ianto was awake and looking at Machaon irritably. For his part, the healer also looked a bit annoyed. Jack repressed a smile as he thought of Owen. 

Machaon turned round and smiled at him. “He will recover,” he said, “but it will take time.” He turned back to Ianto, who was staring at Jack with his eyes wide. 

Jack nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on his partner’s. 

Machaon nodded. “It is my job,” he said as he started to leave. As an afterthought, however, he turned back to Ianto and said, “You’re not to move.”

“I couldn’t go anywhere!” replied Ianto, his eyes still on Jack. Machaon smiled slightly and left without another word. 

“How are you?” asked Jack as he came to sit beside him.

“Well, I’m not bleeding all over the place which is something. I’m a little stiff, but that’ll fade soon,” replied Ianto with a wry smile. “But that’s not why you’re here, is it?” 

Jack closed his eyes for a second. “No,” he admitted finally, “it isn’t. I mean, I wanted to make sure you were all right, but that’s not the only reason I’m here.” 

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tried to think about how best to explain this. “I messed up, Ianto,” he admitted. “I started to think that, maybe you were right about changing things. I know I said we shouldn’t mess with history, but…something happened that changed my mind.” 

He turned away slightly. “I started to see…us, but…in them. I can’t quite explain it, but…well, I guess I just realised how devastated I’d be if I lost you.” 

“You saw us in Achilles and Patroclus.” 

“Yeah, I did. I wanted to help, but it just made things worse. When you were hit out there, I just got so angry and…I couldn’t see straight. I didn’t even realise what I’d done until I saw him lying on the ground.” 

“You killed him.” It wasn’t a question.

Jack closed his eyes again. “I cut his throat…Hector had to deliver the final blow, so he didn’t suffer too much. I’m so sorry.” 

Ianto stared at him for a long moment as he pressed his hands to his cheeks.

“The adrenaline out there,” he whispered, “it was like nothing I’ve felt before. I forgot who I was for a while, Jack and that scared me. When I saw you take down Sarpedon, I lost it; I could barely see straight and I just ran for you. I didn’t even know you’d switched and I thought it was Patroclus I was fighting.” He looked at his partner in anguish. “It was me, Jack; I was the one who stabbed you in the back – and it wasn’t for the first time.”

Jack frowned. They had reached the topic that he had hoped wouldn’t come up today. He knew that they would have to discuss it, but had hoped to wait. Nevertheless, now that it had come up, there didn’t seem to be any sense in putting off the inevitable.

“Ianto,” he said cautiously, “while I will say that it’s in the past, I have to ask you something. I have to know whether you meant what you said to me on that night. I just thought you knew me well enough to know that you weren’t on the rebound from Gwen. I’ve told you things that I would never tell anyone else and I thought that told you something about us; I thought you understood.”

“I do, Jack, I really do. I was angry and upset and I didn’t mean what I said. You have confided in me and that says so much.” He reached out to take Jack’s hand. “If I could take it back, I would. I just wanted to hurt you; I know it was stupid, but I was really angry and I guess I just thought you were being a bit unreasonable about all this. But that wasn’t right; we tried to change things and it didn’t make any difference. Patroclus still died and…” He sighed, feeling tears pricking his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Jack looked at him, his demeanour softening. “I won’t deny that you were being a bit unreasonable, Ianto,” he said, frowning. “But in a way, you were right; we should have at least tried. I tried to talk Achilles out of going to fight Hector, but he just asked me if I’d done the same for you. I didn’t answer him, because…I knew he was right. When Patroclus stabbed you, I got so angry, I was almost blind and I just ran at him. Hector did him a favour; he put him out of his misery so he wouldn’t suffer longer than he had to.” 

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Ianto for the second time.

“Hey,” said Jack, wiping away a few tears which had fallen over his companion’s face, “don’t. We were both being unreasonable that night. If anything, what I did was worse. I should have just told you straight out that I had to Retcon Odysseus.” 

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because there was a tiny little part of me that thought you were right all along.” He shrugged slightly. “I suppose what’s done is done, and we’ll have to make the best of it – together.” 

Ianto stared at him. “Do you mean that? Even after everything –”

Jack laughed and pulled him into a hug. “Of course I do, you daft sod,” he said. “We’re in this together, until the end.” He planted a soft kiss on the top of his head and cradled him as if he were a new born baby. A few moments later, he realised that Ianto had fallen asleep in his arms. Smiling, he rested his chin on his shoulder and stroked his hair. 

“I’ve missed this,” he whispered.

“Well, just be gentle with him.” Machaon was standing at the door, looking amused. “He’ll be all right, but he needs a little time.”

Jack chuckled slightly. “I will be,” he assured him. “And – Machaon…thank you.” 

The healer smiled. “Just…don’t lose him again,” were his final words before he left.

“Oh, I have no intention of losing him again,” muttered Jack.

“Glad to hear it,” Ianto replied sleepily from under his armpit. “Now can you just shut up and let me go to sleep? I’ve not had a good night’s sleep in –”

“Shh,” interrupted Jack as he clambered onto the makeshift bed beside him and drew him closer. “It’s okay now; I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He didn’t know how long they had slept for; all he knew was that, when he opened his eyes again, the sun was shining brightly and Antilochus was standing beside the bed, deep in conversation with Ianto, who looked extremely worried. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Are we going back into battle?”

“Achilles has renounced his anger towards Agamemnon,” answered Antilochus. “He’s returned to the fray again, to fight for us.”

Jack frowned. “But…isn’t that a good thing?”

“He’s faced off against Aeneas,” explained Antilochus, “and he’s gone on a bloodthirsty rampage against the Trojans. I fear that Patroclus’ death has left him unhinged.” 

Moments later, Machaon appeared in the doorway, his face flushed with having run so fast. “It’s happening!” he cried. “Achilles is going to confront Hector!” 

Antilochus gasped and they raced away, leaving Jack and Ianto staring at each other.

“He’s confronting Hector already?” gasped Jack. “But…I thought…it’s too soon.”

“It must be later than we thought,” answered Ianto weakly. “What do we do?” 

Jack stared at him. “We’re going to stop him,” he said simply. “I won’t stand back and watch him destroy himself. Can you walk?” 

~*~

Zeus’ thick brows furrowed as he watched the two men race after the healer and the son of Nestor. Moments earlier, he had been smiling as the two were reconciled, but now…

“Can they stop them?” asked Apollo. Zeus said nothing; instead, he turned to look at him with such sadness in his eyes that Apollo almost wondered if it was really him. 

He couldn’t believe it; one minute, they had been so happy at the reconciliation that they had almost thrown a party. Now, it was more like a funeral. 

Artemis was watching with Athena, both of them looking thoughtful. “What can they do?” she asked. “What can two men do against such bloodshed?” 

“More than you might think,” answered Athena. “The older one has a gift…he will never die. He is more like Achilles than he had initially believed.” 

“Pity it took him so long to realise it,” growled Ares. 

The goddesses were extremely vocal in their agreement, before Artemis said, “Well, that’s the problem with thinking with your crotch.”

They laughed. It was forced laughter though, and didn’t even begin to dispel the tension. 

“They won’t stop it,” said Apollo, his voice unusually quiet; it sounded as if he was begging for someone to contradict him, but he knew it would be a lie. 

Athena said nothing, but she came over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “What will happen will happen,” she said, “and we’ll face it when it does.”


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

“Do you think we can stop Achilles, Jack?”

The question made the older man slow the chariot as he turned to look at his partner. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we will do everything we can to stop him. I promise you that; whatever you try, I won’t stand in your way.”

“He’s not really even Achilles any more though,” said Ianto, sighing as they surveyed the devastation of the warrior’s violent rampage. “I don’t think even Patroclus would be able to stop him now.”

“And yet you think that we can?”

“Whether we can or not doesn’t matter, yet. What matters now is that we try to do something. With Patroclus gone, we’re the last link to Achilles’ humanity.” 

Jack didn’t quite understand, but he knew that it made sense. Even though Achilles had not confided in them as much as he had in Patroclus, they still felt the same. 

“So, how do we do this?” he asked. But Ianto didn’t answer; he was staring at the citadel of Troy as if he could see right through the bricks, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. When he turned round, his eyes were faded, but his face was tense.

“There’s something else,” he whispered. “At this very moment, Hector is inside that city with his mother and father, who are pleading with him not to fight Achilles.”

“What will he decide?” But when Ianto suddenly jumped out of the chariot and raced towards the city as fast as a fawn, Jack knew. He yoked the horses once again and raced after him, catching him up barely a moment before he arrived at the gates. 

Ianto looked at him seriously. “I have to try, Jack,” he said quietly. “While I was there, Hector and I became…close.”

“Did you ever…?”

“What? Jack, no! He is devoted to his wife and I was – and still am – committed to you. We were never like that, Jack. But we did become closer, we became friends. I can’t let him be lost like that; his son is only a baby. He can’t grow up not knowing his father and as for what it would do to his parents and to Andromache –”

“Ianto,” interrupted Jack, catching his hand, “I told you that I wasn’t going to stop you, and I won’t. Go and do whatever you have to do, but be careful…and be quick,” he added when he turned to look behind him. 

Ianto followed his partner’s gaze and gulped when he saw Achilles sprinting towards them. “He’s as swift-footed as he’s described,” he mused, before quickly shaking himself out of it. “I have to go and try and talk to Hector. Will you –?”

“Yes.” Jack didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll do whatever I can to stop him. Now, go.” He gave Ianto a quick kiss and watched for a few seconds as he left him and approached the gates. 

“Well,” he murmured to himself, “here we go.” He stepped off the chariot and stood, arms folded, as Achilles approached the city, blocking his view of Hector and Ianto. 

The Myrmidon leader looked surprised for a second, but then his face hardened. “Get out of my way, Jack,” he snarled. 

“No,” answered Jack calmly. “I’m here to talk to you and you’re going to listen to me. Look, I have been where you are now; I’ve been consumed by anger before and I’ve done some terrible things because of it, things I regret to this day.”

He caught Achilles’ wrist. “But you…you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to let this anger consume you. You can let it go. You can let your anger go, but that doesn’t mean that you have to forget Patroclus.” 

That was the wrong thing to say, however. Achilles’ eyes flashed and his hands found their way to Jack’s throat. “Don’t you dare speak his name!” he hissed. “It’s because of you that he’s dead! I would kill you right now if I could.”

“But you know that it wouldn’t do any good,” said Jack, stepping away nimbly. “I know that you’re upset and I understand that you want to avenge him. But is this the answer?”

Achilles threw his arms in the air. “Why is it always one rule for one man and another rule for another man?” he growled. “You’ve done the same thing for Ianto, Jack! Speaking of which – where is he? Has he gone back for another foray into Troy?” He gave a bitter laugh. “You killed for him, Jack, but how do you know you can trust him?” 

“I can,” said Jack with conviction. “He’s hurt me before, but I know he won’t do it again, not after what it did to him before. But this isn’t about Ianto, Achilles – this is about you. Look, I understand your feelings, but this will solve nothing in the long run.” He took Achilles’ hand and sank to his knees in supplication. “Don’t do it. There’s no need for it.” 

~*~

“Hector, you don’t have to do this,” Ianto was saying calmly, but with the underlying plea in his voice. “I know you and you’re a better man than this. Your parents are right; you don’t have to fight Achilles to prove yourself. You’ve already done that so many times, by keeping this city and your people safe under an onslaught.” He wasn’t tearful and his voice was calm, but his eyes showed how earnest he was in his feelings. 

Hector watched the young man who had come to mean so much to him, both as a comrade and as a friend. He still did not know how he had come to be here, but still, he had come to trust him and care for him as if he was his son. When he had been injured in the battle, he had felt something in him die. And now, when he had come racing up to him, his heart had leapt as he realised that he was alive. 

But even as he looked at the boy, taking in his calm voice and the soft whisper, not spoken with his voice, but shouted by his eyes, he found himself feeling confused. He knew that Ianto was right when he had told him of what it would do to his family, but…

“I don’t know what to do,” he said, more to himself than to anyone in particular. “I cannot undo what has been done; if I could, I would go back and order the men back to the town when Achilles returned. Many men were killed because of my recklessness.” 

“Hector, that is not true.” Ianto came up to him. “You have defended this city for nearly ten years now and the only reason it has held for as long as it has is because of you. These men have followed you into battle, because they trust and respect you. Yes, you may be the one that leads them, but that does not make you responsible for their deaths. You are but one man, Hector, son of Priam, and one man can’t save everyone.” 

“But you’re still trying,” said Hector quietly.

“No; I’m trying to save you. I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself like this. While I was here, I came to care for you, very much. I can’t quite explain it, but I don’t want you to –”

“It’s too late, though,” interrupted Hector, his eyes sad. “My duty is to Troy and to my people. I must confront Achilles; I can see him there, approaching, even as your friend is trying to stop him.” He smiled slightly at Ianto. “We are not so different him and me, Ianto; both driven, not just by our desire for fame, but by duty to people we love.”

“Hector –”

“I love my people and my country, Ianto. This man has taken many of them from me. So, if I die trying to beat him…then it will all be in the line of duty.”

With those words, he shouldered his spear and sheathed his sword, stepping out into the sunlight. Ianto followed him and called out with one last effort:

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” 

But Hector didn’t even turn round; his eyes were focused on the advancing Achilles, who was also focused completely on him, even as Jack ran after him.

“Stop it,” Achilles was saying. “You will not change my mind; now, both of you go back before you get needlessly hurt.”

Jack caught up a moment later, taking Ianto’s hand. “Achilles,” he panted, “please…I’m going to say this one last time; you don’t have to do this. Just think about it – would Patroclus want you to do this?”

For a moment, Ianto thought it had worked. Achilles turned to look at him, and there was a flash of something in his eyes; confusion, or fear, perhaps? But the next moment, he wondered if he had imagined it as the blonde warrior looked as cold as before. 

“I’ll never know what Patroclus would want me to do, Jack,” he said dully. “Thanks to this man, I never had the chance to ask him.” He didn’t even turn. “Now, go.”

Jack knew that it was hopeless then and, drawing Ianto close to him, they walked away, barely able to take their eyes off the exchange that they could hear taking place. His heart broke as he heard Achilles reject Hector’s pledge that the loser’s body would be returned. 

“I can’t watch this, Jack,” Ianto was whispering into his chest. 

Jack stroked his hair gently. “I know,” he whispered. “Come on…we’ll go back. We don’t have to stay here.” In truth, he didn’t think that he could watch this either. 

But when he turned back, once they had arrived back at the chariot, it was already over. Hector was lying in the dust, bleeding from his neck as Achilles stood over him. But even from a distance, the Trojan’s weak voice carried on the air, as if his words had wings. 

“My father and my lady mother will give you bronze and gold in plenty. Give up my body to be brought home so that the Trojans and their wives can cremate it properly.”

“Please do it,” Ianto whispered, “please Achilles; show him that you are a true man. Let his men have his body so that they can say goodbye to him as they should.” 

Jack turned round and, for a moment, his eyes met Achilles’. For a moment, he thought he saw Achilles hesitate. Go on, he thought, do what is right…let him go…

But the moment passed and, once again, Achilles rejected Hector’s plea. There was a sound as he ripped the spear from Hector’s chest and removed his armour, taking no pains to be gentle with the corpse of his foe. 

Suddenly, Ianto threw himself out of Jack’s arms and started to run back. “Stop it!” he shouted. “Please – isn’t it enough that you’ve already killed him?” 

The surrounding Greeks, who had already begun to abuse the corpse, stared at him in astonishment. Achilles, however, ignored him and continued his barbaric act of slitting the tendons in Hector’s ankles and tying the corpse to his chariot, ready to drag it away. His eyes were almost red in the glare from the sun, but they made him look almost alien. 

“This is for Patroclus,” he said, his voice unrecognisable, even when he was roaring in the middle of a battle. He sounded so cold and uncaring. 

Jack watched the scene, his heart breaking. He knew how Achilles had felt about Patroclus, but he could hardly believe that he was doing this. He raced to Ianto and caught his arm before the younger man threw himself at the warrior. Ianto’s eyes were blazing, tears pouring down his cheeks as he screamed and swore at him.

“Get off me, Jack!” he shouted. “You swore that you wouldn’t stop me!” 

“I said that I wouldn’t stop you trying to stop this!” shouted Jack. “I won’t let you throw yourself into this – you’ll get yourself killed!” He turned Ianto round and grabbed his shoulders. “Listen to me! It’s over! We tried to stop them and we failed. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I don’t like this any more than you do, but we can’t do anything else.” 

Ianto didn’t answer, but instead he wrenched himself free again and turned to the Myrmidons who had joined the rest of the army. 

“Now do you see who you’re following?” he asked. “That is not what a man would do; those were the actions of a monster! Would you have done that to a dead man?” He waited for an answer, but got none. “Well, would you?” 

He laughed bitterly. “Don’t answer that. I know that you wouldn’t and yet…you show no shame in it. How can you? He had a wife and a son to think about! He said that, if he died trying to win, then it would be in the line of duty, but tell me; what you did to him and what your leader did to him – is that duty?” 

Eudorus stepped forwards. “He saw it as his duty to Patroclus,” he said, but his voice wavered. “Jack would have done the same if it had been you, I am sure of it.” 

“Patroclus would never have wanted this!” replied Jack. “Never; and that is why I would do no such thing if it had been Ianto; he would never want me to. And if you think that Patroclus would want that, it just proves that you don’t know him as well as you should.” 

There was no reply to that, but gradually, the men started to walk away. When the last legion had left, Jack gathered Ianto in his arms and held him gently as he cried. 

He felt his own tears fall as he heard a bitter scream coming from Troy.

“I’m so sorry.” 

~*~

Jack and Ianto attended Patroclus’ funeral feast, but they kept their distance from Achilles, who, in turn, kept a distance from them. The next morning, a month since they had arrived in Troy, they went with Meriones to fetch wood for the pyre. 

“Patroclus was a great warrior,” observed the attendant of Idomeneus to them as they walked. “We should have done this the moment that he died, rather than waited. Achilles said that Patroclus spoke to him in a dream and asked why he had waited.” 

“And why did he wait?” asked Ianto, who was still reeling from what had happened with Hector. “Because he had to go and avenge him first, did he?” 

Meriones shrugged. “I don’t know why, but now we should at least honour the dead.” 

Neither Jack nor Ianto could argue with that and so they willingly each left a lock of hair and stood at the pyre. But it was not only Patroclus’ body that lay there; Achilles had also slaughtered two of his companion’s dogs as well as twelve young Trojan men, who had been sons of noble and brave warriors of Troy. Even Jack, who had seen more than his fair share of bloodshed in his life, was disgusted by this, but neither he nor Ianto said anything; they would not carry out actions themselves, but they knew that they should be here. If anything, they owed it to Patroclus. 

However, they did not attend the games, merely watched from a distance as they held each other gently, Jack caressing Ianto’s hair and whispering softly to him. 

“Jack,” said Ianto suddenly, pausing to look at him. “You said that you were starting to see us in Achilles and Patroclus. Well…I have to ask; if it had been me who died…would you have done what Achilles did for Patroclus?”

“No,” said Jack without hesitation. “I said so earlier, and I meant it. I would be upset and angry, but I wouldn’t even consider disrespecting a corpse in the way that Achilles did. I know that you wouldn’t want that.”

Ianto nodded and rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jack.” 

“It will get better,” Jack whispered reassuringly. “Achilles will come round someday.” 

But days passed and Achilles showed no sign of letting his anger go. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse. He mutilated Hector’s body by dragging it around Patroclus’ tomb. Finally, as the sun rose on the eleventh day, Jack knew it was time to intervene. 

“I’m going to talk to him,” he said to Ianto. “It’s like you said; now that Patroclus has gone, we’re the last link to his humanity and this has gone on for long enough.” 

He stepped out of the hut and strode to the water’s edge, where he found Achilles sitting and staring out towards the sea. To his relief, the wild anger that had inhabited him for all these days was had faded and he now looked merely thoughtful.

“You can’t go on like this forever, Achilles,” he said. “I know you’re upset and I understand that, but you and I both know that this is not what Patroclus would want.”

“Well, what would he want?” asked Achilles. 

“He would want you to move on,” answered Jack. “And, believe me when I say that I know it isn’t easy to move on when you love someone. But I also know that moving on doesn’t mean forgetting them. You don’t have to forget Patroclus – you just have to let him go gracefully, which is not the same thing.” 

He reached out for the warrior’s arm. “You know this; deep down, you know what you have to do. Give Hector’s body back; let your anger go, finally. You have compassion in your heart, Achilles; there’s no need to hide it away under the hero mask. Vulnerability is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s what makes us human.” 

Achilles frowned. “You are more like me than I thought you were,” he remarked. “I can see that you hide behind a mask too, one that only a few see to be a mask.” He turned to look at Jack, his face unreadable. “Perhaps you are right; I have let my anger blind me.” 

Jack smiled and, as he kissed his forehead before he left, he knew that he’d got it right. And, sure enough, he and Ianto watched as Priam, the venerable king of Troy, left carrying his son’s washed body back to Troy. Achilles himself came out moments after his departure and looked up at them. Ianto looked straight back at him and nodded. 

~*~

Hector’s body lay on a grand bed, accompanied by his mother and his wife. Helen stood a little apart from the scene, as if she blamed herself for what had happened to him. Andromache then cradled his head in her white arms and lamented long and bitterly, tears pouring from her eyes. She roused in them all a desire to weep and to sing their own laments as the body was moved to a pyre and set alight and his bones gathered and encased, just as Patroclus’ had been barely two weeks before… 

The scene was suddenly broken by sounds of shouting and it broke when Achilles’ eyes fluttered open and he looked around to see the bright sun streaming into the hut. Still feeling slightly dazed by what he had witnessed through his dream, he dressed and armed himself as he emerged onto the beach, to find the Greek armies marching again, following the eleven-day truce that he had agreed to. 

As he followed them towards the city, he caught sight of another army before them; a small group, but with a tall figure at their head, wielding a spear. 

Beside him, Jack looked up and recognised the figure from what Ianto had told him. He then turned to look at his partner, who nodded. It was that time.

The Amazons had arrived.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9

Jack shifted mournfully between the coarse blankets, staring at the stars above him. It had been rather warm over the past few nights, so he and Ianto had taken to camping outside in the empty ships rather than stay in their stifling hut, where it had been too hot to do anything, including sleep. Now, however, they could hold each other, kiss, touch and make love without having to suffer the unbearable heat. 

Except that, this time, Ianto was not with him.

Jack knew that the young man had been deeply affected by what had happened that day, and, if he was honest, he had been himself. That day had seen the death of Priam’s eldest son, Hector, who had been at once a brave and fierce warrior, a kind and loyal husband to Andromache and a loving father to little Astyanax. Deep down, Jack knew that he had died bravely, just as he would have wished to have died, but that did not make accepting what had happened, what he had seen happen, any easier to bear. 

Especially after seeing what the consequences of this had done to Ianto. Jack sighed as he remembered that his partner had spent several days in the palace of the Trojans, following a nasty fight between the two of them, which had only been resolved following the death of Patroclus, and Ianto’s own nearly fatal injury. During that time, the younger man had become deeply fond of the Trojan prince and his family, to the extent that he had tried to stop Hector from fighting the fierce and angry Achilles, knowing that he couldn’t win. But Hector had been obstinate; if he died trying to beat Achilles, he had said, it would all be in the line of duty. 

A surge of anger flew through Jack’s heart as his mind lingered on the leader of the fearsome Myrmidons. There was no doubt that Achilles was a brave fighter and an asset to the Greek army, but he was also bloodthirsty and vengeful. Seeing him kill Hector had been bad enough, but watching the man mutilate the corpse so had been too much to take. Of course, Jack understood that Achilles had been upset, distraught even, over the loss of his partner, friend and lover, Patroclus, but seeing that had simply disgusted him, sickened him, even. He had tried to stop Achilles, pleading with him that Patroclus would not want him to do what he did, but all to no avail; the man had been obsessed with gaining revenge, even calling out that he had done what he did for Patroclus. 

Jack was suddenly distracted by a touch to his arm and he span round, reaching instinctively for his sword, even though he knew that no one, Greek or Trojan, was a threat to him. However, he merely found himself looking into the expressive eyes of Eudorus, one of Achilles’ soldiers. 

The young man looked worried. “Forgive me,” he stammered, “I did not mean to –”

Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, Eudorus,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Is there something I can do for you?” 

Eudorus shook his head. “Not for me, sir,” he whispered, “but you must come.” He held out a hand and Jack took it, jumping nimbly onto the sandy beach. 

They had only walked for a few moments before Jack suddenly became aware of a dark shape beside the waters edge…a shape which he recognised immediately from the shallow whimpers escaping from him.

“Ianto…” he whispered. He wanted to race over and comfort him straight away, but stopped instantly when he realised that someone else was with him. Straining his eyes, he could just make out the handsome figure of Nestor’s son, Antilochus, who had one arm wrapped around Ianto’s shoulders and one hand stroking his hair gently. 

Eudorus stepped forwards and cleared his throat loudly. At the sound, Antilochus started and stepped away sharply, his eyes slightly frightened. Jack was about to soundly reprove Achilles’ soldier, but before he could speak, Ianto leapt up and ran into his arms, clinging to him desperately, his entire body trembling. 

Antilochus also stood up then. “Take care of him, Jack,” he said quietly. “He needs you.” 

Jack nodded silently and picked Ianto up and carried him back to their ship. He laid him gently on top of the blankets and started to cover him, since he was shivering badly. However, when he started to move away, Ianto reached out and caught his arm.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Please, Jack…please don’t go…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” said Jack, clambering in beside him, “don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” He wrapped his arms around his partner and held him tight, pressing a soft kiss to his brow. “It’s okay, Ianto; I’m here.” 

Ianto shuddered. “Show me,” he breathed. 

“Show you?”

“Show me that you’re here.” Ianto pressed a needy kiss to Jack’s lips. “Please, Jack. I need you…I need you to love me…” 

Jack swallowed, remembering when he had said the exact same words to Ianto before. “Oh, Ianto,” he choked, “I do love you…I thought you knew that…” He tilted his head slightly, frowning. “What’s this about, hey? What’s this really about?” 

“Please, Jack,” begged Ianto, his voice hoarse. “Please…I need this. I need you.” 

Jack sighed and stroked his partner’s face before kissing him deeply. “Okay,” he whispered. “If this is what it takes to prove to you that I’m here…I’ll do it.” 

He wrapped one arm around Ianto’s waist, supporting him and holding him as he eased him slowly out of the long tunic he had been wearing. Very gently, he stroked the hair on his partner’s chest, only to stop short at the sight of the dark stab wound on his chest. Slowly, he ran his fingers over it, trying to keep the burning guilt out of his face.

“Jack,” gasped Ianto, “please Jack…I want this.”

“Shh,” whispered Jack. “Ianto, you’re injured, you –” but he had to stop at the look of desperation on Ianto’s face – a look he knew he could never refuse. Sighing, he finally admitted defeat. “Okay…but the moment I hear anything that resembles you in pain, I’m stopping, do you understand? I have no desire to get you hurt.”

“Okay,” gasped Ianto as his fingers eased Jack’s own tunic off his body. “I understand.” 

Jack kissed him again, firstly on the lips and then all the way down his chest before stopping at the base of his slowly growing erection. Then, very slowly, he rolled himself over so that he was straddling Ianto’s hips and rested his fingers on his lover’s lips. 

Ianto took his cue and gently began to kiss and suck at Jack’s long digits, letting himself almost swallow them whole, coating them smoothly in his saliva until they almost fell completely out of his mouth through being so wet. “Now, Jack,” he panted. 

Jack nodded and, with a last kiss, he started to insert his fingers, one by one, into Ianto’s opening, slowly moving around inside him. At the same time, he wrapped his other hand around his partner’s erection and stroked up and down, gentle, but fast, groaning as Ianto started to buck his hips against him, gasping hard.

“That’s it, Ianto,” he panted. “Come for me…come for me, now.” 

“Jack,” gasped Ianto as he came hard into Jack’s hand. “Jack, please…” 

“Shh,” murmured Jack. “Won’t be long now…won’t be long…” He continued to work his fingers inside Ianto, even as he coated his own erection in the young man’s essence. 

“Jack, please!” Ianto was almost begging now. “Please, Jack…I need you…”

“And you will have me,” answered Jack, even as he claimed another kiss. He wrapped his arms gently around Ianto, taking extreme care not to aggravate his wound and gently entered him, slow and gentle, taking care not to hurt him. He kissed Ianto’s forehead, neck and lips softly, running his fingers through his sweat-dampened hair.

Ianto groaned into the kiss, running his fingers over his lover’s back. “Jack…” he gasped, “Jack…Jack, I’m…I’m going to…” but his final words were lost as Jack’s orgasm washed over him, sending waves of pleasure through both of them.

Moments later, Ianto came as well, collapsing in a trembling heap on top of Jack’s chest, gasping and panting for breath. He blinked hard and stared at his partner. 

“Jack…” he whispered, but that was all he could say before a stream of tears began to fall over his face. “Jack…”

“Hey, hey,” whispered Jack, stroking his face. “What’s this about? Come on…hush, now, it’s all right…I’m here.” He pressed a kiss to Ianto’s brow and drew him closer, gently kissing away the tears. “Shh, now,” he pleaded. “Please, Ianto…talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” sobbed Ianto, trying to dry away the last of his tears. “I just…it’s just…” 

Jack nodded. “I know, I know. It’s been a terrible day today. Don’t worry…I’m here, now – and I always will be. Just rest here…just hold onto me. It’s all right now. It’s going to be all right. I promise.” 

He kissed Ianto gently, smoothing his hair. “We will make things better, Ianto. I don’t know how, but I swear to you…we will make things better.” 

Ianto sniffed hard and burrowed his face in Jack’s chest, trying to ignore the fresh tears as they made salty tracks down his cheeks. He trembled as he felt Jack’s arms tighten around him, Jack’s lips on his forehead and Jack’s voice singing gently to him as his hands stroked his hair. 

At least there was one thing he was sure of. Whatever happened, Jack was with him.


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10

“And so the Amazons arrive to do battle,” said Ares. His tone was light as usual, but nobody missed the speck of fear that was clouding his eyes and the lack of anticipation that he usually had before a battle commenced.

Athena knew why only too well and, setting her allegiances towards the Greeks aside for a moment, she went to him. “Whatever happens, you must be proud of your daughter and remember her as she would want to be remembered,” she said gently. “She is a great woman to have seen so much and yet to have come so far.”

Ares looked at her, but he said nothing. He had not felt this kind of fear before and it unnerved him, as did the fact that Athena seemed able to see it. 

Silently, he resolved that, were his daughter to die, as had been foretold, he would gravely punish the man who killed her. Already, he could almost see the looming shape of Mount Ida trembling in his mind’s eyes. Above him, the heavens trembled.

~*~

Jack watched as the small band of women led the Trojans forth, all of them strong and brave, but none more so than the one who led them, her spear flashing in the blazing sun. “I’m sure I recognise some of those women,” he mused, “though I don’t know the one who’s leading them…Penthesilea, you said her name was?”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Jack, as entertaining as it assuredly is, now is not the time for you to be telling me about your sexual conquests,” he said. “But to answer your question, yes – their leader is Penthesilea. And those men might well look amazed.” 

Jack could hear several of the Greeks wondering how such a small group had managed to rally the Trojans so that they appeared like beasts luring lambs to the slaughter. After Hector’s death, he had thought that their hope would fade into nothingness. 

“It is amazing, though,” he said, “that one woman and her twelve comrades can inspire such hope to the masses.”

“It is,” agreed Ianto. “It really makes you think; sometimes, it is those who appear more vulnerable who are in fact stronger. You would never think that one woman could run through the Greek army as Penthesilea does. You wouldn’t even think one man could. But she has seen a lot in her life, and come through it.” 

Jack smiled. “She’s just like you, in a way, I suppose.” He didn’t elaborate any further, but instead waited as the Amazons advanced on the Greeks, with the heartened Trojans following her. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. 

“What happens to her?” He had never heard that story; Ianto had never told him, and he didn’t say anything now, he merely looked away and readied himself. Jack sighed and realised that, once again, he wouldn’t get an answer; he would just have to wait and see. 

One thing was for sure; the Greeks were not going to hold back, regardless of whatever confidence the Trojans had acquired. And, sure enough, barely a moment later, they streamed forwards and attacked with vigour. 

But something wasn’t right…

“Jack,” said Ianto suddenly, turning to look at him. “Where’s Achilles?” 

Jack frowned. “I thought he was with us.” He looked around and saw that his partner was right; Achilles was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his cousin, Ajax. 

“He was a minute ago…when we were at the ships,” murmured Ianto. “I guess in the charging, we left him behind without realising it.” 

~*~ 

At that very moment, Achilles was kneeling at Patroclus’ grave, Ajax beside him, and tears pouring over his face as he remembered his lost comrade. No, he had been more than a comrade…he had been a friend, a partner…a lover?

No, he was beyond a lover. Achilles didn’t need Jack to tell him that. He had been there when no one else had, but he had confronted him when he needed to be confronted. Their relationship had gone beyond being prepared to die for each other every day for nine years and the soft caresses and kisses they had exchanged during the nights. 

“He was my second in every way and more,” he mused, almost to himself. “So often, a second-in-command is associated with someone who would stand up for their leader and fight in their stead. Patroclus did that, but he did so much more than that. He took the time to get to know me, to understand me. He looked beneath the warrior and saw the man; the only person to truly do so. Others have tried, but only he truly succeeded.” 

He smiled sadly at Ajax. “I care for you, Ajax, son of Telamon, do not doubt that. But you cannot hope to replace Menoetius’ lost son. I do not think that anyone can.” 

Ajax nodded slightly. He was about to admit that he knew this, and would never try to take Patroclus’ place in Achilles’ heart, when he was distracted by alarmed shouts. He called out to Achilles that they must go and save the Greeks. What he didn’t know was that, even in the midst of his mourning, Achilles had heard the sounds as well. Once they were armed, the two grandsons of Aeacus took their places before the battle.

~*~

Penthesilea alone seemed to be unfazed by the appearance of the cousins and the devastation they were wrecking on the once confident Trojan army. Instead, she darted, silent as a snake in a forest, to meet them head-on. Even when they were readying their spears and shields, she did not waver, but instead cast her weapon, which hit the great shield of Achilles, only for it to shatter into pieces as it fell from the gift of Hephaestus.

Not deterred, she held her head up and aimed for Ajax this time. “While my first spear missed, this one will surely hit and destroy the strength and spirit of both you and the Greeks.” So saying, she threw the weapon and her aim was true. But once again, it failed to pierce the protective shield and penetrate the son of Telamon’s fragile flesh. 

Without a word, Ajax turned from her and threw himself amongst the Trojans, leaving Penthesilea to face Achilles alone. 

~*~

Nearby, Jack stopped when he saw the scene before him. “So, that’s what happens to her,” he murmured to himself. He was about to go and help her, when he heard a familiar scream from within a mass of Trojan soldiers.

“Ianto!” he cried and followed the sound, to find his partner bleeding and surrounded. Quickly, he stepped in to help and dispatched the warriors quickly and effortlessly. It wasn’t an easy job, but at least he knew that they wouldn’t suffer drawn-out deaths.  
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to check the wound.

“Yeah,” Ianto looked at him blearily, “thanks.” 

Jack smiled and kissed him quickly, but before he could say anything, the battlefield fell silent. Looking up, Jack saw Achilles standing tall and proud, crowing triumphantly.

Ianto followed his gaze. “Oh, no,” he whispered, before tearing off towards the scene, Jack hot on his heals. He fell to his knees beside Penthesilea, caressing her arm before he removed her helmet, and stroked her face gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, suddenly finding himself thinking of when he had lost Lisa. 

He couldn’t even turn round to look at Achilles, so he missed the look of shock that crossed his face, which was closely followed by sadness as he looked at her. He didn’t even register what was happening around him; only saw the body of the insolent Thersites hit the ground loudly. Ianto had known that it would happen, but he didn’t try to stop it; the man had not deserved saving. 

Jack rested a hand on Achilles’ arm and looked at the grieving Trojans surrounding them. “Come,” he said quickly, distracting an angry Diomedes before he attacked Achilles, “let us take her to her resting place.” He turned to the Trojans. “You have my word and my honour that no Greeks will attack for three days. Take your time, mourn your dead.” 

Ianto stared at his partner in surprise, but it was only when they returned to the ships and Jack had spoken with Agamemnon and the others about what had happened that he came to him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Jack shrugged. “It was the least I could do.” 

~*~

Four days later…

When news that the Ethiopians, led by King Memnon, said to be a son of the Dawn herself, had arrived, the Greeks knew that the Trojans would be filled with hope once again. And, sure enough, when they saw him, they were impressed; he made his way through their ranks with the same ease that Penthesilea had only days before, eventually advancing on Nestor, whom he perceived to be a young and virile man, ready to strike him down. But he never got his spear away before another weapon flew in his direction. It missed him, but his companion was not so lucky and went down like a shot. At the same moment, the combatant was revealed as the brave Antilochus, Nestor’s son, who would fight to the death to protect his father. 

His handsome face was set in an expression of calm determination, even as the dark king advanced on him, though, even when the rock he sent struck him, Memnon still stood. His blazing eyes glared upon Antilochus and, even as he roared, his spear hit the young man, bringing him instantaneous death. 

But it was only when he saw the lamentations of the Greeks that he saw Nestor clearly and realised that he was not as young as he had initially perceived him to be. He knew that he could not fight him, especially as he defended his son’s body, and urged him to draw back so that he would not be killed in an unfair duel. 

Nestor himself argued that he was still stronger than most men and, despite his age, he would bow before only a few. However, he could no longer feel the strength he had once had as a young man and did draw back. 

Antilochus’ body lay where it was. Memnon could not touch it, except to take the armour, as was traditional. 

~*~

As the next day dawned, Ianto groaned, feeling that he should be on the battlefield, helping the warriors fight. But the wound he had sustained from Patroclus all those days before had worsened following the encounter with the Trojans and the Amazons. 

Jack had stayed with him, as Machaon had been called out to the battlefield, to heal the warriors. But it was clear that he was as agitated as Ianto was, since they had heard nothing since the Greeks had left the ships and even Ianto didn’t know what would happen. He knew that King Memnon had arrived, but he had no idea of what would happen to him, or to the Greeks at this point. How he had managed to not know that part was something that remained a mystery to both himself and his partner. 

Eventually, Jack couldn’t take it any more. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said. “I’m going to see if I can find out what’s going –” but the words were scarcely out of his mouth when he heard a sound of bitter wailing from outside. He leapt up and raced outside. “What’s happening?” he barked to a soldier.

“King Memnon is dead,” said the young man. “Achilles confronted him in battle.” 

Jack closed his eyes for a second in prayer for the Ethiopian king, somehow knowing that he was a valiant man who had come up against a superior enemy. Privately, he wondered if there would be anyone who would be a true match for Achilles. Even the son of Dawn herself had been defeated by the matchless leader of the Myrmidons.

But before he could ask the soldier anything else, he saw several men approach the ships. It didn’t take him long to recognise who was at their helm…or whose body they carried.

“Oh no,” he whispered. “Not him…it can’t be.” 

Without another word, he returned to Ianto, who was watching him cautiously.

“King Memnon is dead.” It wasn’t even a question. 

“At Achilles’ hand,” answered Jack, burying his face in his hands as he sat down. “This can’t happen again…it can’t…not after what happened after Patroclus died.”

“Jack,” Ianto sounded scared, “what are you talking about?” 

Sighing, Jack looked up and took his partner’s hands as he prepared himself for the words that would rip his heart apart. 

“Antilochus is dead.” 

~*~

Zeus watched with heavy eyes as the men from Pylos approached their ships, carrying the body of Nestor’s brave son. Beside him, Hera rested a hand on his shoulder and Athena sat beside him, her hands folded in her lap and her aegis removed. 

Now was not a time for war. Now was a time for peace. Penthesilea, Memnon and Antilochus may not have been major players in this war, but they had still been heroes and heroines in his own right.


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11

Antilochus’ funeral was a sobering affair. His lithe and beautiful body was washed and carried to the ships by his fellow spearmen from Pylos, his wise father Nestor and his beloved brother Thrasmydes, at their head. Achilles, Jack and Ianto, his closest friends, followed them while the rest of the Greeks brought up the rear.

Achilles almost found himself smiling as he gazed upon the body of the man who had been almost as close a friend as Patroclus had been. In the pale light of the dawn, he saw, as if for the first time, just how young he was; he was barely the same age as Ianto. When he was laid down on the ship, he looked so small and gentle, and yet he had been a hero in his own right. He had perhaps been overshadowed by the more experienced veterans of war, but that took nothing away from what he himself had done.

Nestor’s eyes were downcast but resolute as he stood with Thrasmydes, holding the flaming torch in his hand. A chorus of moans went up from the men of Pylos as he moved forwards to light the pyre. At that point, Achilles could bear it no longer.

“Wait,” he said, his voice calm but clear. He stepped forwards, ignoring the surprised looks from his comrades. “Forgive me, venerable Nestor and brave Thrasmydes, but there is something I must say.” He looked towards Antilochus’ father and brother, as if anticipating disapproval, but when he found none, he began to speak and his words soared through the crowd like birds.

“Antilochus was young,” he said slowly, “too young to die when he did. But the very manner of his death tells you something about his character. He sacrificed himself to save his father and he has set an example to us all.”

He paused for a moment and looked at Jack and Ianto, who were holding each other gently, but with a hint of desperation. The sight made him reach into the depth of his great heart and proclaim, “While Antilochus may not have been to me what great Patroclus was, he was still a noble man and a loved friend, and I will do everything possible to ensure that his death will not have been in vain.” Stooping slightly, he smoothed back Antilochus’ hair and whispered to him.

“We will meet again soon, my brother.” 

Straightening up, he spoke once again to the masses. “Sometimes, we are lucky to find one person who is so loyal and brave. I was fortunate enough to find not only Patroclus, who I will always hold close in my heart, but also Antilochus, whose friendship was more to me than many of you will know, and who proved his worth in so many ways. Remember that, all of you.” 

He turned and looked straight at Jack when he next spoke. “And if you do find such a person, don’t ever let them go or hurt them.” So saying, he stepped down and finally allowed Nestor to light his son’s pyre. 

Later, Jack decided to talk to Achilles in private.

“I had no idea you and Antilochus were so close,” he admitted. “You never really seemed to mention him to me. I thought the one you really trusted was Patroclus.”

“He was,” admitted Achilles. “But Antilochus and I have always had some sort of bond, similar to the one I have with Ajax. I can’t explain it, but…I suppose after Patroclus died, I realised just how strong that bond was.” He looked nervous. “Does that devalue what I felt and feel for Patroclus?”

“Of course it doesn’t!” cried Jack. “I mean, I truly love and care for Ianto, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t have special friendships with others. It’s perfectly normal – and don’t let anyone tell you that it isn’t.”

Achilles smiled slightly. “Thank you for saying that,” he said, and then sighed. “But I suppose that is not what you came to talk to me about, is it?” 

Jack shook his head. “I just wanted to say that, whatever you felt for Antilochus, I am glad that you did not treat King Memnon the way you treated Hector. Just as Patroclus would not have wanted you to do that, neither would Antilochus. He deserves better.” 

“I know,” answered Achilles. “I do see that now and I did go after Memnon and avenge Antilochus, but I would never disrespect his corpse.” 

When Jack returned with these reassurances, Ianto smiled slightly. “Thank you,” he said. “I would have said that to him myself, but I just can’t look at him at the moment.”

“I know.” Jack nodded sadly. “But…Ianto, please try and forgive him. He knows now that what he did was wrong and he won’t do it again.” 

“I will try, Jack, I really will. It’s just…Hector was my friend; he took care of me when…you and I were apart. Seeing Achilles doing that, even after what I’ve read…” he shook his head. “I just felt as if I’d been betrayed.” 

He swallowed hard. “I am going to try, Jack, I really am. But it will take time…”

“Come here,” said Jack as he pulled his trembling partner into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay. I know it will take time, it always does. But you can do it, Ianto. I know you can.” 

~*~

Paris watched from the walls of Troy as the Greeks converged on the plains. He knew what he had to do and who he had to look for; it was just a question of finding him in the melee. The last thing he wanted was to shoot one of his own men by mistake. 

Also…that man – the man who couldn’t die, was troublesome; he had rarely left Achilles alone since the death of Patroclus. Paris could try and take him out, but he knew it wouldn’t be for very long. As for Ianto…well, he was that man’s partner, but Paris knew that, whichever side he was on, there was no way he could take him out. The man had not only fought for them once, but he had also been a friend of Hector’s and Paris knew well that his brother would not have wanted him to be killed.

The poisoned arrow was set at his bow and the string was taut. But still, Paris hesitated; could he bring off the shot to hit his victim? 

“Let my aim guide you,” whispered a voice behind him. Paris started and turned to see the handsome and familiar figure of Apollo looking at him. “I can guide your arrow to the one you seek to kill.” His eyes became sad as he watched the leader of the Myrmidons shedding the blood of soldiers. Even Jack and Ianto seemed sickened. 

“It seems that he broke a promise,” mused Apollo, “to the one who will not die. He is almost as bloodthirsty and savage as he was after the death of Patroclus.” 

Paris frowned. “What about…” and he tilted his head towards Jack and Ianto. 

Apollo sighed. “They would not stand in your way,” he said softly. “They may be his comrades, but for now they appear betrayed and sickened by him. They care for Peleus’ son, but there is only so much that they can take.” 

Paris looked down, just in time to see Jack pull Achilles out of a mass of Trojan bodies, his blue eyes furious as he pulled out his sword. For the first time since entering the throng of battle, Achilles looked shocked. He turned, apparently in appeal, towards Ianto, but saw that the younger man’s eyes were as cold as the stone walls of Troy itself. 

“You are right,” he said quietly. “They would not stop me.” 

“You need not even look as you shoot,” said Apollo, equally quietly. “My aim will be enough to guide your arrow so that it will kill him.” 

Paris nodded and closed his eyes tight as he let the arrow fly from his bow. Even now, as he was about to strike the blow that could save his city, he could not stand to look.

~*~ 

Jack’s hand dropped to his side when he saw the arrow strike Achilles in the heel and his sword fell to the ground in shock. He turned to look at Ianto and saw that his partner was looking as shocked and as guilty as he felt. Quickly, he ran to him and said that they could at least stand over his body and protect it in death. 

However, Achilles still retained his strength and will for the fight. He was no longer as swift-footed as he had once been, but he still managed to stand forth and slay three more Trojans, even as he roared in anger and pain. It was terrifying for the Trojans to watch, but at the same time, his determination was awe-inspiring to everyone around him. 

Even as he fell, he continued to rebuke the Trojans as they fled from him. But even with his brave words, Jack could see that his life was fading from him. He whistled for attention as he bent over the dying man, and Ianto approached him, closely followed by Ajax and Odysseus. Achilles’ eyes flickered open again as he saw them and he managed to muster a tiny smile for his cousin, before his last breath left him. 

“Ajax,” said Jack tensely, “you must stay with Ianto and help defend the body. Odysseus, come with me.” He turned to Ianto. “Do this – for me. It is a noble cause, Ianto.” 

The younger man nodded. “I know, Jack.” 

“What do we do?” asked Odysseus once they had left the others behind. 

“I left Ajax and Ianto as the last line of defence over the body,” answered Jack. “But to get to them, they will have to pass us first. We stand here in defence of Achilles, but we do not shed blood unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand?” 

~*~

“Thank you for not killing any Trojans who got in your way yesterday,” said Ianto quietly. It was the next day and finally time for Achilles’ funeral. 

Odysseus nodded and then turned towards the uncharacteristically haggard figure of Nestor. “Is it time?” he asked gently. 

Jack watched them leave and felt his heart ache for the older man. He had lost his son and someone who he viewed with a paternal affection in two days. Taking Ianto’s hand, he followed the others to Achilles’ pyre. They could hear the wails of Thetis and her fellow Nereids as they came out of the water to mourn the brave warrior in their own way. 

As the pyre caught alight, Ianto suddenly decided that it was time to step up. Letting go of Jack’s hand, he stood against the flames and cleared his throat.

“Achilles was a great man and a great hero,” he said softly over the crackling sounds of the fire. “He fought bravely for nine years and when he returned he brought hope again. However, he also did some things that he would not wish to be remembered for. All of us have.” Clearing his throat, he shuffled slightly. “So, do not remember the monster that some of you, myself included, saw in him after the death of Hector. Remember the man.” 

He cleared his throat again. “I call upon the Myrmidons to remember Achilles; the man who led you with valour and I call upon all the Greeks to remember the warrior who gave his life. But above all, remember the man who grieved so deeply for Patroclus and who was great in his praise for the loyalty of Antilochus. Remember Achilles, son of Peleus.” 

He then started towards the pyre itself. Looking down, he gazed into Achilles’ face which was not totally shrouded in smoke and fire, and whispered three short and simple words.

“I forgive you.” 

The funeral games which followed were intense, but exciting. Jack and Ianto participated this time and though they did not triumph, they could not deny that the adrenaline rush was an incredible feeling and just what they needed to get through the grief. They were both touched to receive a gift, even though every competitor, save Odysseus, did. 

However, once she had finished handing round the gifts, Thetis then brought out the greatest prize of all; Achilles’ armour. Tears in her eyes, she proclaimed that the armour was a reward for those who had rescued her son’s body. Jack and Ianto looked at each other uneasily; they both knew how this would turn out. 

However, when Odysseus received the armour, he surprised everyone when he said, “I am delighted to receive such a noble prize, however I cannot accept it. I had hoped to win it so that I could hand it to someone who has made me see things in a different light.” With these words, and amidst much astonishment, he passed the prize to Jack. 

For a few moments, Jack said nothing, but then he remembered seeing the moment when Achilles had watched Patroclus arm himself to go into battle on the day he had died and seeing the occasional flickers of grief shatter the otherwise proud expression on Achilles’ handsome face. The image quickly faded to the scene where Antilochus had been holding the Myrmidon leader as they both wept over the news of Patroclus’ death, before finally settling on Achilles’ speech at Antilochus’ own funeral. 

Jack swallowed. He could not accept such a prize, not when he was the one to blame for at least one of those deaths and certainly not when he knew what would happen next. With a sideways glance at Ianto, he took the stand.

“Achilles would want this to go to the man closest to him,” he said. “Since Patroclus and Antilochus are gone, that means you, Ajax, son of Telamon.” He handed the prize to the visibly shocked warrior. “And, as his cousin, surely you have the right to it.” 

Ajax stared for a second, but the others murmured approvingly and he eventually managed to smile. “Thank you,” he said cautiously. He nodded towards Odysseus as well. “And thank you, as well,” he added. Odysseus said nothing, but nodded back.

Later, Ianto approached Jack while he was gazing at the last remains of Achilles’ pyre. “Why did you do that?” he asked. 

Jack turned round and smiled. “We couldn’t save Hector, Patroclus, Achilles or Antilochus,” he said softly. “But at least we saved someone.” 

Ianto’s smile would stay with him for the rest of his life when he heard those words.

~*~

Zeus watched the scene. “That boy has the most beautiful smile,” he mused. 

Hera groaned. “I seem to recall you saying that about Ganymede as well,” she snapped. “You seem to believe that everyone is beautiful, you know.” 

Artemis shrugged. “It appears that the rule that a man seems to think with his crotch is magnified when that man is the king of the gods,” she remarked. “Still, it makes a nice change from the dejected figure, I suppose.” 

Hera grunted and then smiled. “Well…he is handsome, I suppose,” she admitted. “And his partner is not unattractive either.” 

Zeus turned round. “Indeed he is not.”


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12

“How many more funerals will we see, Ianto?”

The question had been troubling Jack since the events of the previous day. He stepped up to the slowly burning pyre and closed his eyes for a moment.

“First, there was Patroclus,” he said quietly, stroking the hair of the dead man, before he turned to Ianto, “and then there was Hector and Antilochus and finally Achilles.”

“Jack –”

“I thought that would be the end of it, but,” he sighed, “now we’ve lost Machaon too, and we’ve lost him because of me.”

“Don’t say that,” gasped Ianto, “don’t ever say that; it is not your fault. Machaon would have died anyway; we both know that he wasn’t a match for Eurypylus. But he died protecting you, just as Patroclus did for Achilles and Antilochus did for his father – and just like I would do for you.”

“Don’t!” shouted Jack. “Don’t ever say that, Ianto.”

Ianto sighed. “But I would, Jack. Even knowing what I know, I would still do it, just as Patroclus did for Achilles.”

“Did Patroclus know what we know about Achilles, though?”

“I don’t know, but I would guess not. I’m not even entirely sure whether Achilles knew about it either – he was pretty shocked when the arrow hit him.”

He shook himself. “But, Jack, my point is that, whether or not he did know, Patroclus would still have done the same. And so would I. Knowing doesn’t make any difference when you want to protect someone you love.”

Jack sighed and looked at Podalarius, Machaon’s brother, who had sunk to his knees in the sand beside the pyre, with Nestor by his side, trying to console him. Moments earlier, the younger man had been set on committing suicide, even as the others had tried to hold him back. Now, Nestor was sat with him, holding his hands and whispering to him. 

“I just feel guilty,” he murmured, “Machaon didn’t even know about me. No one ever told him, I don’t know why, but they didn’t. Maybe if I had told him –”

“Even if you had, I don’t think it would have made a difference,” replied Ianto. “It was Machaon’s job to save people, Jack. We just didn’t expect it to be like this.” 

~*~

Agamemnon turned to Odysseus. “It is time,” he said. “You must go to Lemnos and fetch him. Use all the wit and cunning you possess. Ajax, son of Telamon…you know where you must go and what you must do.” 

The two men nodded and departed. Jack frowned after them; it seemed strange that, only a few days after one of them could have been involved in a needless tragedy, they seemed to be almost amicable with each other.

“Will Philoctetes come, do you think?” asked Menelaus, who was also there.

“I do,” replied Agamemnon. “That is why I sent Odysseus along; he can use his nimble wit and cunning to lure him here with honeyed words.” 

Jack mentally snorted, remembering what he knew about Philoctetes. An old friend of mine, he mused, though he doubted that he would be seeing some crazy alien this time.

But there was still something he didn’t understand. “Where has Ajax gone?”

“To the island of Skyros,” answered Agamemnon, without turning round. “He has gone to find us the help we will now need, more than ever.” 

Jack frowned in confusion; he couldn’t recall Ianto telling him this particular part and he had only come in at the last moment, when Odysseus had been given the order to fetch Philoctetes. “Who is he looking for?” 

It wasn’t Agamemnon’s voice who answered him, however. 

“Neoptolemus,” said Ianto, stepping into the hut. His face was grim and pale. “He’s going to find Achilles’ son – and his army of Dolopians.” 

~*~

There was no doubt that Achilles’ son, Neoptolemus, was a great warrior in his own right. He was strong, brave and fierce and he led his Dolopians with fire in his heart.

Despite this, Jack did not warm to him the way he had to his father before him. Agamemnon may have likened him to Achilles, but there was no similarity about them, except for their brilliance as warriors and that was such a tiny thing. While Achilles had at least been occasionally willing to listen to reason, Neoptolemus was a law unto himself. There was a fine line between doing your job and merciless killing and he was stepping over that line, repeatedly. Often, Jack and Ianto could hardly bring themselves to look upon the battlefield after one of his rampages. In fact, Jack couldn’t even bring himself to feel pleased when the young man killed Eurypylus.

On the other hand, Philoctetes fascinated him. Initially, he had been exceptionally hostile towards his fellow Greeks and, in all honesty, Jack couldn’t blame him. He had felt the same way after being abandoned by the Doctor on the game station. He almost thought that he could see himself, directly after that, in the man. However, as the Greeks celebrated after he had killed Paris, Jack realised that he had forgiven his comrades and even encouraged them as they prepared for battle. 

“Just as you forgave the Doctor for abandoning you,” murmured Ianto. “I could tell that you were thinking about him.” 

“He’s a great warrior,” said Jack simply.

“Yes he is…and so is Neoptolemus.” He grimaced a little as his partner’s face hardened. “Jack, you have to at least try to give him a chance. You gave me a chance, even though I probably didn’t deserve it.” 

Jack sighed. “I know, but…I just don’t trust him.” 

“That’s because you’re not seeing what you expect to see. You’re expecting to see Achilles in him – but he’s not Achilles, Jack.” The unspoken words ‘Just like you’re not your brother’ hung between them. “I don’t like him much either, but he’s on our side.” 

Jack paused thoughtfully for a second. “I know he’s not Achilles,” he said slowly. “I guess I just didn’t expect him to be so different, so…inhumane. Even after everything you’ve told me about him, I wasn’t expecting this.” 

“What were you expecting?” asked Ianto. 

“I don’t know – someone to remind me of Achilles, maybe. Maybe I expected someone who wouldn’t remind me of who I used to be every time I looked at him.” 

Ianto sighed. “Jack,” he said, slipping an arm around him, “that’s not you. You told me what happened and you wouldn’t have done it if you had known the consequences.”

Jack shrugged. “That’s not what scares me, though. When I see Neoptolemus out there, I see myself – or rather, I see the man I could have been if I’d done what I was capable of.” 

“But you didn’t.” Ianto looked straight at him. “Jack, listen to me. Somewhere, underneath the hard warrior, is the young boy who Phoenix himself talked about. You found the man in Achilles; now, do you think you can find the boy in Neoptolemus?” 

Jack watched his partner for a long moment, considering his words. Neoptolemus disturbed him greatly, and not only for his violent tendencies in the field. Deep down, he wondered if that little boy was there at all, but…

“You’re right,” he admitted. “If that little boy is in there, then I will try and find it while there is still a chance for it to be found.” 

~*~

It was very dark and crowded inside the great horse, even though only thirty soldiers were inside it. Jack was hunched in a corner, watching Neoptolemus opposite him. The young man was sitting still and calm, but even in the darkness, his eyes shone with anticipation. However, when he realised he was being watched, he turned to the shadows. 

Jack sighed and turned to look at Ianto, who didn’t say anything. Instead, he just reached over and squeezed his hand tightly.

“Do you trust me, Ianto?” Jack asked in a whisper.

“Of course I do.” The response was unhesitating. 

“When we get out of here, follow me.” Jack looked into his eyes. “I’ve got an idea.” 

It felt like barely minutes before the hatch was opened and the light was filtering through. Quickly, Jack grabbed Ianto’s hand and they slipped out while Odysseus attempted to restrain the others. Unnoticed, they slipped into a small alcove where they were greeted by the tall figure of Ajax. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

Jack nodded. “Thank you for helping us.”

“It’s the least I could do. After he met you, Achilles would not have wanted this. I don’t know how you did it, but you changed him; showed him how to be a true man.” 

“Thank you,” Jack said again. “Now…go on. Do what you have to do. Good luck.”

Ianto looked at Jack in confusion. “Jack,” he whispered as his partner took him aside, out of earshot, “Jack, what’s going on? What are you doing?” 

“You were right,” said Jack simply. “We may not be able to stop the city being destroyed, but there’s no reason for the people to suffer.” 

“We’re going to save them?”

“As many as we can,” Jack agreed. “I don’t want another Canary Wharf, Ianto, and I know that you don’t want that either. Now listen, this is important. I need you to find Aeneas and Andromache and help them get as many people out as possible. But above all, you must get both Andromache and Astyanax out as fast as you can, especially considering what you told me. I’ll go after Neoptolemus. I’m not sure if I can stop him, but I will certainly try everything I can.” 

Ianto looked shocked, but nodded. Just before he was out of sight, however, he turned back. “Jack?” he called out. “I – thank you.” 

Jack smiled and sprinted off. “Good luck, Ianto,” he whispered to the air, not knowing, of course, that his partner heard him and smiled. 

Already, signs of devastation were clear as he raced through the citadel. People who moments earlier had been lost in drunken sleep were now lying in pools of their own blood, having suffered at the merciless Greeks. Jack swallowed, hoping that Ajax was close at hand so that he could help them. For some, however, it was too late; several of them, warriors and citizens alike, bore the tell-tale marks of the weapons of Achilles’ son. 

When he finally reached his destination, Jack’s heart stopped for a second. Priam was there, clinging to the altar, but his eyes were filled with determination. His dead son, Polites, was lying beside him in a pool of his own blood. Above them all stood Neoptolemus, a truly macabre figure, his attire and weapons red with Trojan blood. His spear was sharp, glinting even in the low light of the torches and his eyes were cold. 

“Stop!” shouted Jack, causing everyone to turn and look at him. “Neoptolemus, stop,” he said again, only quieter this time, though he did not plead. “There is no reason to be doing this – your father would not have done this.” He waited, hoping that his words would reach the young man’s ears and he would stand down. 

But Neoptolemus had no intention of standing down. If anything, his eyes grew even more violent when he heard those words. “That may be true,” he said as he dragged the Trojan king to the altar. “But I am not my father.” So saying, he raised his sword and, ignoring Jack’s words, buried it through the old man’s side, letting his blood stain the hallowed place, even as he removed the weapon and walked away. 

Sickened, Jack stood still for a few seconds, before the situation caught up with him and he realised where Neoptolemus would surely be headed next. Hoping that Ianto had managed to alert Andromache, he ran after him. 

“How can you call this nobility, or even glory?” he shouted when he finally caught up with the warrior on the, thankfully empty, tower. “King Memnon showed more of that when he let Nestor go!” He waved at the chaos below them. “Is this what you came for?”

Neoptolemus laughed coldly. “What else would I have come for?” he asked, readying himself for a fight. His sword, still glistening with Priam’s blood, was raised instantly.

Jack shook his head sadly; he had hoped that it would not come to this, but as he blocked the strike, he knew that he had no other choice. Within a minute, they were locked in ferocious combat with each other, striking not to wound, but to kill.

“Would you have let him go?” shouted Neoptolemus as he released his spear.

“Yes, I would, every time!” shouted Jack. He lunged forwards and ripped at his rival…and was instantly rewarded by the sound of metal hitting stone. 

Neoptolemus looked surprised for a moment when he registered that his breastplate had been ripped from him, but he instantly retaliated, sending his spear flying. “Then you do not know the glory of being a warrior!” he roared back as he charged after the weapon.

However, Jack was ready for him and his sword ran straight through the boy’s flesh. He buried it deep, knowing that death would be instant for him. Whatever he had felt for the young man, it would not do to let the child of Achilles suffer. 

When Neoptolemus’ eyes closed for a final time, Jack sighed. “I may not know glory,” he whispered, “but I knew your father and I know he would not have done what you did.” 

Without another word, he removed his sword and walked away. “I tried, Ianto,” he whispered. “I tried so hard, but…in the end, there was nothing I could do.”

~*~

Jack stared around him at the wreckage of what had once been a fine city. Now, all that was left was ruins. He felt despondent all of a sudden; they had tried so hard…

“And we succeeded,” said Ianto suddenly, looking straight at him. “We couldn’t stop the city being destroyed, but we saved the people. You saved the people, Jack.”

He rubbed Jack’s shoulder. “Saving everyone would have been impossible,” he admitted. “But we saved others. And that’s what matters. We inadvertently caused some of the events that we were trying to stop, but we did save something.” Turning, he stared directly into his partner’s eyes. “We stopped another Canary Wharf.” 

Jack nodded slightly and smiled, drawing Ianto into his arms and holding him tightly. Suddenly, a storm began to blow above them, with violent winds whipping around the ruins and heavy clouds darkening the sky. At the same time, the ground beneath them began to shudder and crack. Immediately, Jack knew what it was.

“The Rift is opening,” he whispered as a flare of bright light that might have been mistaken for lightening, shot up into the sky and took them with it.

He had no idea how he could have known, but from the moment that it happened, Jack knew that the Rift would be taking them back to Cardiff – back home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, here's the epilogue...but did the boys get home safely?

Part 13: Epilogue

Jack picked himself up and looked about him, smiling. They were back in 21st century Cardiff – the Rift had ‘dropped them off’ on a rooftop in 21st century Cardiff, to be more precise. But he quickly realised that there was something else too.

“My coat,” he whispered, running his fingers through the pockets and grinning as he felt a familiar piece of white cotton. Smiling, he drew out his little handkerchief that had served him well for so long and fingered it gently.

“We’re back,” he whispered. 

“Well done for working that out,” Ianto’s dry voice spoke from beside him. He rolled his eyes fondly as he put away his stopwatch, but he still seemed distracted.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Ianto shrugged, tears pricking his eyes. “I just realised,” he murmured, turning around, “out of about three or four hundred people who were living in that city, not counting the army, there were probably only fifty or sixty who were supposed to be saved.”

Jack took his hand. “Ianto,” he said softly, but his partner seemed lost in thought. “Hey, come on,” he said quietly, “let’s get out of here and talk.” He wrapped an arm around him and gently led him towards the door that would lead them off the roof.

~*~

Once they were back in the empty Hub and settled on the sofa, Jack slipped an arm around Ianto’s shoulders. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong,” he said softly.

Ianto shuffled slightly, looking uncomfortable. “It’s just…I know that we can’t save everybody and I’d have been a fool to think that we could,” he said. “But knowing that less than a hundred people made it out of there…even after reading about it, it’s just…the sack of Troy was vicious, Jack. I still can’t get my head around it all.”

“I know,” said Jack gently, stroking his hair. “It was vicious and it’s even harder to see something you’ve read about; nothing you read about can prepare you for seeing it.”

He turned Ianto’s face so that they were looking at each other. “But didn’t we save something at least? How many others did you and the others manage to evacuate?” 

“Seventy, maybe eighty,” murmured Ianto, “most of them were women and children; I think that only twelve of them were men, including Aeneas and his father. His wife, Creusa, was there too, but she was so badly injured…I don’t know if she survived for long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to kill her.”

Jack looked thoughtful. “So…you saved about eighty people to go with the fifty or sixty who originally made it out?” Ianto nodded. “Ianto…that’s fantastic.”

His partner stared at him. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, think about it. Whichever way you work it, you have saved between a hundred and twenty and a hundred and forty people. Considering that there were between three hundred and four hundred people, you’ve saved at least a third of the population. That’s amazing, Ianto. The fact that you did it yourself makes it even more amazing.”

Ianto looked at him then. “What happened to Neoptolemus?” he asked. 

Jack bit his lip and looked uncomfortable. “I did try, Ianto. I really did try to save him, but he was gone. I tried to reach out to the little boy inside, like you told me to, but…” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I had no other choice. I didn’t want to fight him, Ianto, but I promise you that when he died, I made sure he didn’t suffer.” 

Ianto closed his eyes for a second. “If it was the only way…” 

“I went back afterwards and gave him a tomb. Whatever I thought of him, the son of Achilles deserved that at least. I couldn’t save him, but I could at least honour him.” 

“I understand.” 

Jack looked at him for a few seconds and then cupped his cheek gently. “You’re not really upset are you, Ianto?” he asked. “Look, what you did was incredible and, while it’s only human to wish you had saved everyone, the fact that you saved so many is what matters. Remember what I always tell you; a hero isn’t measured by the number of lives he takes, but by the number of lives he saves.” His eyes widened meaningfully. 

His face crumpled slightly as a single tear ran down Ianto’s cheek. “Hey,” he whispered, gently kissing it away, “Don’t cry,” he pleaded, drawing him into his arms and stroking his hair gently. “I hate seeing you get upset.”

“You really think I’m a hero?”

“I don’t think you’re a hero; I know you’re a hero.” 

“Then you’re a hero too,” said Ianto simply. “I know you feel bad for what happened with Neoptolemus, but judging from what you just told me, you didn’t have any other choice. When you killed him, you saved so many others who he might have killed if he had lived. Little Astyanax, for instance, he’s safe because of you. I might have found him and Andromache, but he’s alive because of your actions.” 

Jack smiled and kissed him on the forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered, before standing up slowly. “Now, I believe I said that I was going to have some words with the Rift.”

Ianto chuckled, only for his smile to be replaced by a frown. “Jack,” he said, “did you happen to pay any attention to the building we arrived on?”

Jack turned, looking confused. “Yeah, it was that office building where I – oh,” he said with a sigh. “Well, I guess I’ll have to be having more severe words than I thought.” 

Ianto chuckled. “Well…maybe, but then again, you may not need to.” He sat back, smiling, Jack’s cheerful laughter ringing in his ears.

~*~

Zeus tilted his head slightly as he watched the strange man in the red outfit who had been blown into Troy’s ruins look about in confusion. He had to admit; his handsome build had caught his eye and sent fiery passion smouldering through his heart. 

Taking the form of a small white dog with curling hair, he descended from his lofty peak on Mount Olympus and soared towards the ruins, ready to ‘rescue’ the new arrival.

Hera rolled her eyes in irritation as she listened to the exchange. The red-clothed man stared at her husband and raised his eyebrow.

“Hello,” he drawled, “I’m Captain John Hart. Note the sarcasm. And I seem to have missed all the good stuff, but never mind; with such a gorgeous companion, I can more than make up for it.” So saying, he span on his heel and strode off, the little dog following him avidly. 

Despite herself, Hera found herself smiling as she thought about the two who had been there before. They had shown such love and courage…and had never given up on what they believed in. That was what was so important – and it made them heroes. She only hoped that they would be remembered for years to come – and not just for their unwitting foray into Troy. 

“Jack and Ianto,” murmured Athena, seemingly sensing what the divine Queen was thinking. “They were the heroes of Troy.”


End file.
